I am a very lucky girl. I am not a rich girl, not in the scheme of stratospheric wealth I have been exposed to, but I am a lucky girl. I have also dated some gentlemen who were members of the wealthy elite, and as a consequence, they bought me things. Some very pretty, fairly expensive jewelry has been acquired over the years, and while it was nice to receive it, I assure you I paid dearly in other, less fashionable ways.
Each gift meant the world to me. A gift of jewelry carries certain implications, even if the Tiffany box does not contain a ring. I wore my love on my sleeve, neck, and glowing, endorphin hazed expression. In turn, as soon as the relationships eroded to nothing, the bracelets were removed; an unchaining of arms, if you forgive the pun.
Seeing as how years have passed since the demise of said relationships, I wonder if I can wear the jewelry again. Is that somehow wrong?
It would be different if it were a T-shirt. An ex-boyfriend’s t-shirt is solely sentimental and fundamentally intimate, and should either be ceremoniously burned or used to clean toilets (a la Singles).
Jewelry, I feel, is different. I’m not throwing white gold in the trashcan, I can’t afford to have it melted down and made into something else, and I certainly won’t give it away. In a strange way, I feel like I earned these pieces. And while as a gift they were happy investments, I paid my debt in heartbreak. Is there something deeply inhumane about wearing your own scars?
Being a dutiful sentimentalist, the question makes me nervous. But I think I will give it wearing the jewelry a try. The years have passed, the emotions have processed, and I no longer disintegrate at the mention of certain Greenwich Connecticut residents.
It would be awful, though, to wear the pieces and encounter the ex (but at least it would mean you were looking fantastic…)
