Blank Sheet of Paper

My Christmas present to myself: Your ring. Why? Because there really is no point in trying to outrun it.

I could swear to you that it was calling me. With all that’s happened this past week, it makes perfect sense. Besides, it was only going to be for a few hours while I was at work, there would have been no harm. I didn’t do it though. I couldn’t tell you how, but I left that room without touching it. And a part of me is really glad I did that. The other part is telling me that I'm a damned fool for trying to outrun it.

There are some things that are better left at a distance. Some things that are pretty to look at, but if you reach out to try to touch them they will either (A) hold your fingerprints forever or (B) fall and shatter completely. I've come to the conclusion that your ring is one of those things that is better looked at, but not touched. It's a gorgeous ring, don't get me wrong, not to mention that you gave it to me, so it meant something . You see, I've worn that ring every day for nearly a month {a month this Thursday}, but last night as I laid curled on my sister's couch looking at it, I couldn't help but wonder if it was right that I still keep that piece of you so close to my heart. ...I'll never forget, but maybe I shouldn't remember so much, so often. So your ring is currently tucked safely inside the door of my jewelry box. I can look at it still, I undoubtedly will, I'm just wondering how long I'll last before I slip it on and remember