When I Sold Your Engagement Ring
By Anonymous
I bought the ring a few months before you broke up with me. “People
change.” When I packed up my things and left our home, I tucked the
ring box I had been keeping in my nightstand, but not before telling
you my intentions. In an attempt to try and make you change your mind
or hurt you, I still don’t know. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of
my life with you. Go on adventures with you. Wake next to you. Be hit
in the face by your flailing arms while you slept. Make you smile.
Share inside jokes that were impervious to the outside world. These
were all part of a life I never believed I’d be without.
When I flew my best friend out to help me pick out the ring she was so
excited for us. When I told her it was over she couldn’t believe what
I was saying. “What happened?” “She said she didn’t love me anymore.”
And that was that. I kept the ring for a few months. Hidden in the
back of my closet, I threw obstacles in front of it so it couldn’t be
easily retrieved, so I wouldn’t be able look at what could have been.
It wasn’t easy, but I adapted quickly to those objects. Like the
opening of “Raiders of the Lost Arc,” I maneuvered, jumped, and lunged
to look at this artifact. I held it in my hands, but unlike Indy I was
destroyed by my find and the adventure became tiresome.
When I decided to take the ring back to the store, I was informed they
had a one month return policy and I cursed my planning ahead. The
clerk was nice and I saw how sorry she was that there was nothing to
be done. “It happens all the time.” “This was my first.”
I set up an eBay account that I would never return to for anything.
This was its only job. I thought about pawning the ring, but I didn’t
want to see a pawn shop owner analyze my love, so I figured anonymity
would be best. The first few days no one bid. I figured this ring
would be with me forever. A reminder that I wasn’t good enough. When I
updated the description with our story, I got a message. The users
name can be described as patriotic with random numbers. He wrote that
he wasn’t interested in the ring, but that he read what I wrote, was
sorry for what I was going through, and was pulling for me. I
responded that I’d lower the price. As the days went by I still hadn’t
sold the ring, but the view counter at the bottom of the page informed
me that 343 people had seen what I wanted to give you. I imagined
these people as our friends and family and not complete strangers.
When I finally sold the ring I didn’t feel like a weight had been
lifted, but a new one being added on. I thought of the buyer getting
down on one knee and saying the words he’d practiced over and over
again like I had, so the moment was just right. How he loved his
soon-to-be wife with all his heart and how happy he was that they had
found one another. That he never wanted to make her merely content and
that as long as he lived his love would never diminish. I imagine I am
that man.
In the back of my mind there was always concern that you’d say ‘no’
when I asked you to marry me. I just wish I’d gotten the chance to
hear that at least.