Last night I sold my wedding ring. The ring that we so carefully picked out as a couple. The diamond the had to be the right size, color and shape. This ring sat on my finger throughout the roughest days of my life. It seemed those years were filled with more hardships than contentment. When I think about all we had gone through together, I am thankful of where I am today. Had I lived like that much longer I think I might have drowned in a sea of my own misery.
I have held onto this ring for a total of seventeen years. Fifteen of which I was married. I am not even sure I spent any of those fifteen years happily. When I said I do, I should have asked myself, do I really? I knew I wanted him to be the one but I am certain he was not. With that, I have to take responsibility for the choice that I made. Not only had I sold myself short, but I did the same to him. We both missed out on a life that should have been shared with each others’ soul mate.
My husband is not all to blame. Some obstacles were unavoidable. He did the best he could with the skills he was given. He certainly could not spare me the hardships that awaited me. Somehow the lessons I was taught I must have needed to learn. For that, I am grateful.