Promise ring

Posted: May 7, 2016 in writing

I never did like wearing the ring my first boyfriend gave me.
Thirteen little diamonds set in sterling, all sparkly and pretty.
My hands never have been quite feminine,
Even when I’ve done my nails or had acrylics.
I’m not built for promises.
My metal allergies should have tipped me off long ago that I find it irritating;
The “forever” symbolized by a ring,
The universal signal for romantic ownership,
A small, round, metal prison I imagined bisecting my heart,
Carving through tissue like a chain embedded in a neglected dog’s neck.
Like this little token was supposed to make me feel grateful;
Overjoyed, really, but there was a reason I gave it back to him at the end.
I never liked wearing it.
I’m not built for promises.
I cannot be contained,
Even by a loop of metal on my finger.
I am not built for promises,
But for possibilities.

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