I have had only two rings in my lifetime. Both of them have had much significant meaning. This is the story of one of those rings.
The first was a sterling silver ring with a beautiful Celtic weave design on it. Was an elegant 3mm band and looked beautiful on both men and women. I found it when I was 13 and was saving it for the one whom I would fall in love with, or at least go steady with.
I would dream about the girl who I would give this ring to. I imagined how my heart would feel and the love and affection that I would show. I would see in my mind’s eye pulling out the ring for that special someone and confessing my love for her.
At times I would even fantasize about what part that ring would play in a teenage melodrama when I broke up with that girl that I hadn’t met yet. I was 13, I knew whoever I fell in love with, I would inevitably break up with them because that’s how it goes when you’re that age. I know, it’s cold. I was just being realistic.
Then I met the girl that I would save that ring for. I knew we would inevitably break up and I would rather not go steady with her than break up with her, so I didn’t pursue her. I tentatively decided that I would pursue her when we were old enough to not break up. So I saved that ring for her. It had her name on it. Not literally.
So in the mean time, I dated other girls. Girls who I didn’t mind breaking up with eventually. In fact, girls that I was glad to break up with eventually. In any case, I held back from giving any of them that silver ring.
Then as we grew older, the girl whom I was saving that ring for told me she despised me. Oh well. So what ever happened to that ring? I’m not sure. I think it got lost during a move.
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May.28,2010
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