I was twenty and thought I was in love. She was funny, feisty, and so goddamn beautiful. No guy could resist her. And though I didnt know it at the time, she couldnt resist them.

My mothers locket was one of the only things I had left of her. Dad didnt keep much around after the car crash that stole her when I was twelve. My grandmother had crushed it into my hands the day of the funeral and told me to keep it by my heart until I gave my heart to my future wife. I thought I had. I thought she had felt the same.

The day I found out differently was not quite as painful as the day grandma pushed that piece of metal into my hand as a poor substitute for my world. Not quite as painful, but it was a close thing. I had stopped by her dorm room with chicken parmesan, one of the only things I actually know how to make. A surprise for the woman I loved. Her surprise was decidedly less pleasant. I never did find out who that guy was.

The argument was epic and childish in the way young peoples breakups can be. The worst part was not betrayal of what she did with the unnamed boy, but the betrayal of keeping Moms locket. It was a gift she said, and she refused to see it any other way.

I guess thats why were all here Your Honor. Its not that fact that I lost my first love that hurts the most anymore. Its the fact that in losing her, I lost the last little bit of my mom. Please Your Honor; cant you help me get back that last little piece of a childs world?

Note to reader: Im not normally so emo as the last few posts might suggest. Honest!