7/24/2022

For the past few days I've been haunted by my wife.

More specifically, my wedding ring.

I wanted to get us a pair of mokume-gane rings, but everything was last minute since I remain a serial procrastinator and wound up getting two simple, affordable rings. They are titanium and inlaid with mother of pearl. I figured there was symbolism there in that the titanium would be durable as the marriage and the mother of pearl would symbolize her love of the ocean. Unfortunately mother of pearl on a ring is not a Good Idea™ because it's so fragile and hands are notoriously busy places. The mother of pearl on Leah's ring broke and fell out before mine.
In my mind I was a little superstitious that as long as my ring kept its mother of pearl that the marriage would remain durable. The little pieces remained for some time on mine, but eventually fell out. That was years before 2018 when Leah went full-throttle towards separation and divorce.

My wedding ring is in my magic box. I believe Leah still has hers yet I'm not going to enquire after it.

On Friday while I was putting on my shirt there was a disorienting feeling where I didn't feel my wedding ring catch a little bit inside the sleeve. It'd happen enough but went unmentioned since I reckoned it was just a part of the symbolism of being married. Where the ring serves as a reminder, much like people would tie a bit of red string around their finger as a reminder, that one was giving their life to another human being. For the rest of the day I noted my left thumb was sneakily crossing the palm and touching under the ring finger to affirm my wedding ring was no longer there.

I thought a little about this sudden focus on wedding rings and wondered if it might have something to do with my hair ties. Leah didn't like me wearing them on my wrist, fearing it'd cut off circulation to my hands not to mention the marks they'd leave there, so my hair ties went on my ring finger over my wedding ring. When it still had the mother of pearl I figured the hair tie would protect the ring and ensure the mother of pearl would last longer. Then the hair tie just became a habit, a second reminder of my marriage to Leah. Nowadays I avoid putting a hair tie on that finger, nor the right ring finger, and will wear them around the wrist or my thumb.

Yet the ghost of my wedding ring weighs heavy upon my left hand and I don't know why.

Not to be a broken record but I do not want to go back to her. I'd just crumble and lose the spine I've cultivated being on my own. Yet I still have warm feelings towards her.
For example I was lost in thought and a comparison came up between Leah and Edna. While Leah was always forceful and bossy, Edna was quiet and came across as being accepting. But examining both relationships, and I don't want the word 'relationship' applied to Edna to be seen as anything like we were an 'item', if I had to make a Sophie's Choice then I'd choose Edna to go to the gas chamber every time.

Every. Time.

Not to spare her the horrors of Auschwitz, but because Leah meant so much more to me. And still does...

plus l'esprit de l'escalier

On Twitter I was wondering if I did drugs with Leah, marijuana or psychedelics, that we could've salvaged something and remained together. By drugs I only mean marijuana and psychedelics, not the deadly poisons of meth, cocaine, and heroin.
See after tax season in 2017, Edna and I shared an edible and got very stoned. Edna reclined on the red loveseat gifted to us by Leah's parents while I sat on the hand-me-down couch from my biological parents. We had a weird moment of telepathy and, it seemed, afterwards Edna and I became closer as friends.
Unfortunately Leah was pretty straightedge, preferring alcohol over tripping the light fantastic or just getting fucking goofy on weed. My analysis is Leah doesn't like to show any vulnerability, even around people who aren't going to truly judge her, explaining her reticence towards getting stoned and potentially reflecting upon life and the good things it has to offer that one's conscious mind remains oblivious during waking hours.