the short version is this: last week when he came over bk was wearing his wedding band (on his right ring finger). this (no duh) surprised me and i blurted out 'what is that?' to which he replied: 'it's my wedding ring. i love this ring...i always have. i wear it sometimes.' to which i replied: '!!!!'
as you may or not recall, i sold my engagement ring and used the money to complete another piece of jewelry. i held onto the diamond (it belongs to my mom) and my wedding band (for the kids, if they ever want it). that said, it never, i mean never, has occurred to me to wear it. yes, in one sense it is just a lovely circle of platinum. but in another, much larger sense it is a symbol of our marriage. our marriage that ended. badly. it's a symbol of broken promises and dreams that didn't pan out. but i suppose if those rings had really meant anything in the first place the outcome would have been different.
i've gotten better at disassociating myself from objects and their subsequent meanings in the past few years which has made me ultimately less compulsive about the stuff that surrounds me. that said, i'm attracted to symbolism and tradition and ceremony on the small scale. if i'm ever married again i won't require expansiveness or floofy whiteness or three hundred witnesses. but shit, i want to believe that a ring can remind you of your promises...and help you stick to them.