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It’s just a ring.

My only real bling.

My rock.

The shiniest, prettiest…most beautiful thing I have ever owned.

But really, it’s just a that…

A thing.

Today, Mark texted me…and said, “You should sell your engagement ring.”  Ya know, I’m buying a new house. So, I could use the cash. I get it. He was being so nice. Reminding me I have it, and all. But for some reason, hearing that out of Mark’s mouth, well fingers…made me sad. Ok, not sad, I guess. It’s just a fucking ring. Come on! But it is the finality of it all. I took it off two years ago, sure…but selling it? Wow. What if Jonah or Zac want it for their little sluts? Or what if I want to give it to my niece for a gift one day? Or use the diamond for a necklace. ha. I mean, sell it…for good? It’s just so, final.

I wasn’t sad, I actually felt kinda guilty. Like, it wasn’t really mine to sell. In fact, I asked Mark if he wanted to split the profit with me. We should go half-sies. He did buy it after all, right? It’s only fair. Or maybe I should sell it, and put the money into the boy’s college fund! Ya. Or go on a trip to Israel, or back to Italy with them. That would be cool. But for some really weird reason, it just didn’t  seem right. Maybe if we hated each other, it would be easier. Ya know, to take the money and run for the hills. Go on a shopping spree, or get my tits redone. Goddess knows, its time for a new pair! Even the fake ones start to sag after gravity gets ahold of them.

I just sat there in my car, looking at the text from Mark.

He said,”Nope it’s yours. Take the money, and go back to school.”

So, I texted him back, “Ok.” And continued texting like it was all good. I asked him where I should go to get the most money for it. Blah, blah..blah. Little did he know I was sobbing. I could barely see the fucking screen. It didn’t help that my face was numb from the dentist this morning either. I mean even my nose was frozen, so the snot was dripping down into my mouth… and I couldn’t even feel it. And some asshole was in the car next to me feeding his fat face with a burrito from Taco Hell. And he was looking at me, like I was some kind of freak show. MYOB, dickhead! What, you’ve never seen a woman freeze-cry before?

Whatever. Mark doesn’t read my blog anymore, so it’s not like he will find out that I lost my guts. But I did. This divorce thing ain’t easy all y’all. Its like a roller coaster, and anyone who tells you it’s a walk in the park is a liar. Or on a really high dose of Prozac. Much higher than me. I think most of the time, I am really good. I like where I am. But then…out of nowhere, something gets me. Just pulls the rug out from under me, and knocks me on my ass. And it doesn’t mean I’m not over my ex. Or that I’m not ready to date, or have a new boyfriend. Please. Don’t be a dumb bunny. It just means that at that exact moment, I’m hurting. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t read into it, or get your panties in a bunch. It just comes with the territory. Falling on my ass, that is.

But I get back up, and I brush myself off…and I wipe my snotty frozen face. Then I remember, I got this. I am where I am meant to be. Fuck it. I’m going to sell my engagement ring, and put myself through school! I deserve it.

Oh, and who knows, maybe I’ll get another ring one day. Actually, I’d even take a Ring Pop. Remember those? I loved those dang things…Strawberry flavored, or the Purple Craze. You lick them, and they get all sticky. And your tongue gets all red, or purple. Those things last forever. And they only cost a buck. Life was so much easier then…when all I wanted was a Ring Pop. ;)

xo j

 

 

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