Kick it like Kurt Hummel

I was thinking of marriage last night.

No, it's not because of whoever. In fact, while there's some part of me that's currently geared towards emotional and romantic longing, this thought bubble has absolutely nothing to do with it. Like with half of my thoughts at the moment, it's shallow.

It's about wedding rings.

Partly because I've been reading a lot about wedding rings for work - eventually answered by "yes, Sara Sidle is now Sara Grissom" - and partly because there was this time when I wore a ring around my finger. I think I was ten years old back then, and for some odd reason my parents gave me an old ring to wear around my finger. But I was always the restless kid, and I kept on removing the ring, then putting it back, then removing it.

We were having lunch at some food court at some mall - I can remember where, actually, but I'm too lazy to add hyperlinks - and at some point, I couldn't find the ring. It was a silver ring, pretty simple, nothing significant, but it's still a ring. I think I took the task as a test of whether I can deal with something similar in the future. Instead, my parents and I were looking at the floor surrounding our table, and maybe, one of us approached those guys who clean the tables, thinking they accidentially (or otherwise?) took the ring and threw it away. (Then again, if they threw it away it is an accident.) I can't remember if we found it or not.

My arms are, so far, free from any jewelry of some sort. The flashiest I could wear there would be my watch, and that's six years old and slightly tattered. And yet I take it off when I get home. I never imagine myself wearing a choker bracelet or an anklet for an extended period of time; I feel constricted. I have a couple of choker bracelets that I only wore once or twice ever, probably close to the purchase date. If I had a choice, I wouldn't have had them buy me those, even if they're souvenirs from Hong Kong.

And then, a ring. No, I'm not getting married. What made you think of that? But you should get the drift: a wedding ring is the sort of thing you wear forever, to remind you that you have a commitment, and that you have an obligation, and that you are no longer alone, whatever you may do, wherever you may be. Well, except for the people who take their wedding rings off to pretend that they're not restricted by anything. Or embraced.

Does happiness really rely on limitations of that sort?

And your responses...

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