Today I was talking to my boyfriend, I guess he's more of a life long companion than my boyfriend which I prefer. I gave him an old pocket watch I stumbled across when I was searching through my old bedroom for some form of memories. He made it tick. I was trying to explain to him the way I saw things. I saw the watch as a metal capsule of memories and events, how it had come to me was through me buying it in a baked bean smelling, musty second hand shop. I bought that watch with so many other memories combined within it. The history of that watch must swirl within it like some hidden fog I can never see and understand. He saw it logical almost like a GCSE maths lesson. I liked this because he saw the cogs and clockwork and somehow made it work again, combining both the history of what I thought about the watch and the mechanisms itself.