I wear two rings on my left hand now. Two identical steel rings with intertwining dragons engraved around them. One was bought with the intent that it would be on my finger, symbolizing a leash or leader. The other was bought with the intent that it would be on her finger, symbolizing my collar. The two identical to symbolize the connection between us.
I ordered them in January.
They arrived on Sunday.
Yes, I know the mail doesn't run on Sunday. But, since my mailbox is over a block away, and I don't get around as well as I once did, and since I don't get that much in the bad news box anymore anyway, I only ever limp down to get it each Sunday.
I had forgotten them, so much had transpired since I ordered them, until I saw that package in the bad news box.
I considered sending the package back, unopened.
I considered throwing it away, unopened.
Instead, I opened the package and put both rings on my ring finger of my left hand.
But, why?
Not, as most might think to remind me of her. No.
I wear them both to remind myself that no one wears my collar other than myself. To remind myself that connection does not exist except for between the space between those two dragon carved steel rings on my finger. That no one else is truly mine. Nor am I theirs. Each of us belong only to self, no matter what actions she might portray now that she has deigned to get back in touch.
Do I still love her? Yes.
Will I still be here for her should she need or just want me? Yes.
Will I believe that we are anything more to each other than we are to anyone else?
Not until she kneels before my feet and takes the ring finger of my left hand between her lips to draw these rings off into her mouth and spit them in my upturned palm before raising her trembling hand to allow me to slip my symbolic collar on her finger, and then allow her to slide the one symbolizing my leash back on my finger. Then, and only then, will I accept her as mine and me as hers again.
