The loss of the ring was a small thing really ... simply tucked away somewhere and then forgotten. Days passed and when I thought of it again, it was nowhere to be found ... a mystery for the ages.
I bought the ring for myself ... a particularly determined step of rebellion, a move toward independence. It was the first quality piece of 'real' jewelry that I had purchased for myself and I wore it like a talisman, a reminder to never to back.
Today, years later, I still physically feel its absence from my finger, sometimes glancing over my shoulder for the whisper of the past, but always reminding myself to keep stepping forward.
After all, it was only a ring ... wasn't it?