• "This is for you; I made it. I hope you like it.
    I think you'll understand why he was made this way.
    Nyu, I love you! Please write again soon.
    ~Brandon."

    I looked down into the small cardboard box that I had opened. The box had just arrived from Texas; it was filled to the brim with bubble wrap, and I smiled to myself. My boyfriend knew I liked popping those little plastic cushions of bubble. I pulled out a rather long sheet of bubble wrap and popped a few of the tiny bubbles, pinching them between my index finger and thumb with just a small amount of pressure. When I pulled the sheet out the rest of the way, I heard a dull thud inside of the box.

    Whoops.

    Upon hearing this sound, I peered into the little box and blinked. Since I knew my boyfriend well--or rather, thought I knew him well--I'd just figured he had sent me just the box of bubble wrap to amuse me, but I saw a ceramic jug laid upon even more bubble wrap. It seems Brandon knew I would pull out the bubble wrap without checking to see whether his gift was fragile, so he had put some extra sheet of bubble wrap on the bottom of the box. Heat rushed to my cheeks just thinking of that; for reasons I couldn't fathom, my boyfriend's knowledge of my infrequent recklessness and ignorance embarrassed me a great deal. I set down the bubble wrap that I had clutched in my hand and picked up the ceramic object.

    Was it a male? I suppose it wasn't hard to tell; the face on the jug had somewhat thick eyebrows, and I was sure that not many females had bushy brows. The form of the jug looked as if it were poorly made, for the neck of the ceramic piece looked too pushed in. It made the jug look like it was slumped or stepped on (is that even possible?). I wondered whether it was supposed to be that way. His eyes were looking at something off to the side, rather than staring straight ahead with those blank eyes. It was as if he didn't want to look at me. The spout on the jug looked like an earlobe--I think.

    Unable to discern whether he was sad or happy because of the missing mouth, I instead paid attention to the fingers protruding from the side of the jug. This was the most distinct feature on this deformity of a container... If that's what one would call it. It looked as if the fingers were reaching out to grab something in the air that could not be seen, something so utterly intangible that just thinking about it hurt even my own heart. I glanced at the expression upon the jug's face and began to wonder whether it was indeed wearing a sad--or perhaps more a distraught--countenance. It was hard for me to determine; I always did find it rather difficult to understand an expression on inanimate objects, after all.

    I turned the object about in my hand and noticed that something strange was engraved beneath the fingers. I hadn't paid attention upon first glance, but the carved shape looked like... a heart that was slashed into two pieces. Suddenly, it hit me: The hand was reaching for the broken heart. The jug was distraught because he couldn't grab the heart. It was just within reach, but he couldn't get the broken pieces because he was stuck. His fingers could go no further. I thought about my current situation with my boyfriend... and tears came to my eyes. I now understood.

    One half of the heart was mine. The other half was Brandon's. In our hearts, we were close to each other, but we lived so far apart for so many years. I was in Michigan, and he was in Texas. Brandon had made this in an attempt to convey his feelings of sadness, of dismay, to me. I knew now that this jug really was meant for me.

    I sat in my room with the jug, staring down at it in tears and in deep thought.

    I would definitely write back to him.