The “Chip” from “Beauty and the Beast” Mug
I got you on the trip of a lifetime. With my closest friends, on the hottest day, in beautiful sunny California. I saw you and damn near cried tears of disbelief. As silly as it sounds, I have identified with you forever.
You are symbolic of so many, yet such simple desires.
You are also symbolic of the first real representation of me in an animated film I had ever seen. A brunette woman, a literature aficionado, a lack of judgment, a childlike inquisitiveness about the world. A real beauty, if you will.
Now you rest restlessly on my dull kitchen counter, waiting to be used for whatever tea or coffee I decide to sip that day. Oftentimes I forget you exist. Oftentimes I turn to the bland white mugs in the cupboard, neglecting you, myself, and the little things that resolve me.
When I do finally use you, it feels like a distant action. I dissociate within you. Being around you is not so much a feeling of joy and freedom anymore, but one of longing. I long for that particular brunette woman, that literature aficionado. I long for that childlike inquisitiveness about the world again.
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