Not that I needed it because the wedding didn't exactly jump off, but today I lost my engagement ring. I blame it on the subprime meltdown that affected my mother's ability to afford our house after my father's untimely passing. This weekend was spent packing up boxes, our lives, and 16 years of memories.
Most of them anyway.
I first realized that it was gone when I was canvassing my room for the final time today, I was initially freaked out. I tried to remember when I'd hidden it with no luck. I called to see if it was with someone else. There's no telling at this point because most everything that was in my room is in a box or piled beneath tons of objects.
I started to freak out just a little bit, but then I remembered a conversation I had two days ago with my current beau. He's a widower and was telling me that he'd somehow lost all of his past wife's memorabilia. At first I thought, "damn, that sucks," but he believes that this was the best for him. He said that losing all those pictures, clothing items, and things helped him to move forward with his life. That thought made me wonder if I was holding on to too much of the past and not moving forward because of it. Not cool.
I decided to charge this one to the game and not worry about it. I wasn't using it and at present, I'm not all too keen on my ex, so hell - it's just gone. Congrats to the lucky SOB that happens upon my white gold princess cut diamond. Sucka.