This Ring

When I settle in my apartment for the night, before I begin working, I often take off most of my jewelry. After all, I’m doing a lot of typing, and clickety-clacking rings, long necklaces, and heavy earrings can get in the way (earrings are heavy, alright? At least, a lot of the pretty ones are).

And tonight I was taking most of my shiny things off – I tend to leave my claddagh ring on all the time – and I pulled this big, plain silver ring off my thumb, where it generally lives, and pushed it back on after a moment because…I don’t know. It’s sort of symbolic for me, this big silver ring.

It’s something I found and I loved, and I wanted to buy it for myself, but a relative decided that would be the perfect birthday present a few years ago (I’m not complaining, I promise. First world problems). But, in some weird way, I do kind of wish it had been something I was able to give to myself. It was more than I ever would have spent on a piece of jewelry before and, substantial but plain, it feels…it feels important in some way that for me is still hard to fully articulate.

But it wasn’t something I was able to do for myself. It isn’t an expression of independence; it was a gift. (Again, not complaining. Just trying to work out why I feel like this thing is important.)

And I still don’t know. It’s solid and comforting, but I’m not quite sure why.

Does anyone else have an object that’s special to them, for some unknown, hard-to-articulate reason?


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