It lies there — in a small wooden box, its color faded softly with time.
A simple silver necklace, so plain it seems almost ordinary.
Yet every time I touch it, my heart trembles,
as if someone were calling my name
in a voice I once knew, long ago.
That day, he placed it around my neck beneath a blooming magnolia tree.
The sunlight filtered through white petals,
falling on the chain like a quiet promise.
He said,
“If something called destiny truly exists,
it isn’t waiting in the future —
it’s here, in this moment,
while you’re still standing beside me.”
I laughed then, believing we would always have days like that.
But destiny, after all,
is a delicate trick of time —
just when you think you hold it,
it slips through your fingers.
Years later, I still keep the necklace.
Not to remember him,
but to remember that once,
someone made me believe in what cannot be explained.
On silent nights,
when the moonlight spills across the table,
the chain gleams faintly,
as if whispering:
“Fate is not where you end up,
but who once made you stop.”
I close the box and smile.
Perhaps every encounter in life is a slender thread —
fragile to the eye,
yet binding the human heart
tighter than anything else ever could.
