Proof positive that I am to attached to physical things.
This is a ring I bought myself nearly three years ago, and I've worn it every day since. I bought it with a promise to myself, "Find out if he likes you, and if he does, act on it." Almost three years later, we're still in a loving, committed, wonderful relationship. A few days ago, the ring broke. It happens with silver rings, and it ought not to have been that big of a deal. But it made my cry. I sat there, looking at the single clean crack that had cleaved the ring in two, and wondered, did this mean something? Had I somehow broken the vow placed on this little piece of silver? Was I not loving him enough?
After I thought about it for a while, I decided that it means the end of that weird stage where a relationship is still new. Even after a year it still felt new, hell it still feels new now. Out love for each other is alive, vibrant, and strong, and I no longer need a silly vow made three years ago. I can now look at the ring on my other finger, the one with the garnet in it, that Josh gave me for our first anniversary. This one reminds me that we promised to be in this for the long haul, to work out our differences, and love each other the best we can.
Who cares of a silly little ring cracked? Who cares what I told myself three years ago?
I still have him, I still love him, and no little piece of silver and mother of pearl is going to say any different.
Still crocheting. Can you see all the things behind me? Sorry I haven't been updating, I'm super forgetful when it comes to this website for some reason.