Two Bands of Gold
A story about hard decisions
I took them off. Gold rings. Two of them.
They made a sharp clink as I put them in the small ceramic bowl on my chest of drawers. I put the lid on.
Nearly twenty years I had worn them. Twenty years of hope, laughter, friendship, yet lately, pain, resentment, anger.
How do you get to this point? A point of no return. A point where the love and joy you once shared is so far in the past you can’t quite taste its sweetness. A point where you have to make choices. Decisions. Uncomfortable ones.
My left hand rested on the small bowl. My finger, indented, marked, a light ring around my finger. It felt bare, naked.
How do I move forward no? What do I do?
This double symbol of commitment and love, now hidden. The tiny diamond on the engagement band resting in the dark. Its twin, the wedding band, slipped onto my finger so long ago.
That was a beautiful day. A magic day. Not without pain, the death of my beloved grandmother just the week before. I never thought I would be taking these symbols of a once mutual love off my hand to sit hidden in a bowl in my room.
Would he even notice?
Looking out my bedroom window, white clouds floated by. I glanced at my hand. Bare. Free.
I took this sense of freedom with me. And made the tough decisions.
~thanks for reading~
Inspired by reading Phoenix Cocklove’s story below
Thanks to Xavier Van Holde and IdeaStream ❤
Lisa writes poetry and other things from her home in Finland. You can keep in touch via Northern Notes.