In the drawer is a box made of carved and joined bits of driftwood, which holds objects meaningless to anyone else but sacred, precious, unforgettable to you...

My mouth dropped. My hands covered my mouth. My cheeks blushed. He held the piece of paper on the computer screen.

Prior to that he had told me that he kept it the whole time. I didn’t actually believe him and I did no want to either. Prior to that he had been searching to find me for three years. He had asked my friends how I was and why I never returned a phone call. We had a history and I had tried really hard to keep it buried in the past.

When I saw him again, through a computer screen and I had thought it was just a casual hello. He told me that he had kept something I gave him once, in a big box. He told me that he didn’t want me to wait for him to shuffle through it; but he did in fact keep it. Then after a few minutes he had a spark of genius. He remembered that he had it stored away in his wallet.

He kept the piece of paper I had given to him on the first night that we met. It had my name first and complicated last name, telephone number and email address. He had kept me, after all this time. The name of a lost love, among a series of movie tickets and other keepsakes.