On my first date with him he took off my class ring and looked at it, then he slipped it back on my hand, on a different finger.i always wore my class ring on the middle finger of my right hand, for no clear reason, i liked it there, it fit well there.

he put it back on the ring finger of my left hand

A friend told me later: that is the wedding finger.

the news sent a heart beat into my stomache. It scared me and sickened me all at once. I felt no joy from it, but i didnt stop wearing it there, not right away.

I wore it for a week and a half on that finger before realizing where there was. after that another week before i took it off and put it on my nightstand and began repeatedly forgetting to put it on.

Now that finger feels empty, now not then not until now, naked as tough soemthing was there that is gone now. It is almost in releif.

Its really a statement about me in general, never knowign wha ti am getting myself into until it is too late. Getting into things that frighten me is what i do, but then i am attached and feeling something that i am not willing to sacrifice. Even though I then realize what i have gotten into I cannot handle, and because of that it iwll end, but i am like a child. I cannot let go of it, no matter what. Like a child with a toy meant for someone older, it is too late to take it away and even the child knows deep down they cannot handle it but hopes that before it causes them harm they will grow into it, because they cannot go without it for the interim between.

but we always, always suffocate on the plastic bags, we always get the small peices up our noses and we always choke on the parts we fullishly break off.