The first year CP and I were together, I still lived at home with my parents and he lived with one of his uncles. He was broke all the time because he couldn’t keep a job for very long. Of course, it was never his fault…but that’s another story.

When Christmas rolled around, CP didn’t know what to do about a gift for me. He supposedly wanted to do something special but he had no idea what since he was broke. Somehow, between my mom and CP, they came up with an idea. My mom gave him a big chunk of wood that was going to be used for firewood but it was small enough that it wouldn’t be missed. I had no idea what was going on but CP took that block of wood (approx. 6″ x 8″) and decided to carve that block into a heart. He worked on it for weeks but he was slower than a seven-year-itch, with anything he ever did.

Come Christmas time, it wasn’t finished. He still wrapped it up and gave it to me on Christmas Day. When I opened it, I sat with a dumbfounded look on my face because I had no idea what the hell it was. He told me it wasn’t finished (hmm, never would have guessed that) and that it was going to be a heart-shaped clock. He would buy the clock workings when he had it shaped just right. It didn’t even look like a heart yet, but it was a nice gesture. I thought it was a beautiful gift, finished or not. In fact, it was probably the nicest gift he had ever given me…

But as the years went on he never finished it. It sat on the bookcase holding books steady or the top of my dresser or some other spot I decided to put it, moving it from house to house as we moved. I had hoped he would someday pick it up and finish it. That day never came. That unfinished clock meant the world to me for several years. When I left him in California, I left the unfinished, heart-shaped wooden clock there, on his dresser so he could see it.

It no longer meant anything to me.