It was time…
I’ve held back long enough and the time had finally arrived.
So I opened that small drawer in my closet. Had to dug, took a few things out before my hand felt it. A golden small box.
Time freezes as I pulled it out of the drawer and sat on the edge of my bed that morning, two days ago.
As I opened the lid up, there lays two ring with a broken symbol. Something I haven’t seen in nearly two years.
The first ring…
Was something that I used to think of as the most beautiful thing I had ever wore. A token that I thought I was going to keep forever when it was first given to me 7 years ago.
I lift the small ring…it was dull probably from wear and tear or just from me not wearing it for so long. It had lost its sparkles, one that blinded me 7 years ago. The hope it symbolize of a new beginning had died but I still remember vividly of how over the moon I felt when he got on that one knee and popped the question.
Fast forward to two years ago, he refused to take it back, instead he slid it back into my purse when I picked up boxes of my belonging before I left the apartment for one last time after he and I said our final goodbyes.
Carefully I put that ring back into the box.
I picked the second ring…
It was bigger, brushed with one small diamond encrusted in it. Ironically, it was only 3 years old. My parents got that as a present in 2009 when Mr. X and I had our church ceremony. It replaced, the original wedding bands. Yes, he and I didn’t get the church ceremony until 4 years after the initial civil wedding.
Ironic, because at the time my marriage was already at the edge of a cliff – no one knew about it.
The saddest part was my parents really looked so happy that day. Me, their one and only daughter had finally gotten the church’s blessing! My father shed happy tears…albeit the fact that it took place at my parents’ house lead by a pastor not at a church like I’ve always dreamed of growing up.
Those rings may seems perfectly normal in another eyes.
But not in mine…
To me, they are beyond broken. They are invisibly shattered. The moments he stepped out of the circle of what suppose to be a holy matrimony band – he broke the rings. The vows meant nothing.
So today was bitter-sweet…
Sitting at the jewelry store today, watching the jeweler examined those rings… I knew I am letting go one last piece of evidence from my past life. My Mom sat next to me. She didn’t say much. My son happily swirling the stool around. That boy is my only evidence left of the marriage that ended two years ago.
I looked down at my bare fingers…
The pale spot on my ring finger had disappeared. I had stopped the subconscious movement of the fingers to adjust those rings that were no longer there like I used to do for years.
My fingers may be empty for now. But one day…I can see someone sliding something in there again someday and it will be different. There won’t be any trip like this to resell it because those rings will be mine forever.
And I smile…
My heart was lighter.
If you are divorced, what did you do with your ring(s)? How long did it take you to do anything to them?