I don't know why I'm so pissed but I am. For her to imply that another girl gave it to me—that I cling on to someone who's not her—makes me mad. And the thought of it makes me even madder at myself.
It's not like a four-year-old girl would remember much, but a part of me hoped that she would. Even more so now that she—out of nowhere—questions me about it.
It's fucking frustrating that she doesn't remember. The first time she asked me down in the basement, I didn't tell her because I wanted her to figure it out by herself. I told myself that maybe she'd remember over time. But that didn't happen. And that's okay. I told myself it was all right if she doesn't remember me at all from eighteen years ago. I'll remember for us both and that will be enough.
But damn it, it stings.
The pendant has been so special to me, more than I thought it would be, since the day she gave it to me. How funny is it that she knows nothing about it at all?