When she gave this to me, I had no clue just how small it was.

I don’t look at it often out of fear I’ll break it.

I can’t feel anything but warmth now and when I touch my pocket, I like to think that the warmth I feel is from her.

A small part of me fears she doesn’t feel the same.

But why else would she have wasted her creativity to draw me?

Is this really how I look? Maybe I shouldn’t miss mirrors so much.