She explained, in tones that suggested that she was trying to relate a particularly alien or complex concept, that it wasn't just another ring, it was her Independence Ring. Frankly and honestly, she slowly detailed the origins of that ring.
After her break up, she felt like she was washed ashore, left high and dry. As she struggled to find some efficient way to rechannel her pain and frustration to more constructive conduits, she came across this little trinket of a ring that she had acquired some time back, and then forgotten about. When she slipped it on, a wild idea took root.
Why not wear it as an Independence Ring? A symbol of strength, willpower, determination? A bold statement to the world that she was ready to move on? As the days passed she found that it doubled as her safety blanket, a little island of stability and comfort in the raging, uncertain oceans of life. Soon, as she grew in character, the Ring served more as a proud reminder of how far she had come, than as a source of sustenance.
When she finished her story she said, "Kind of strange, right? But I don't expect you to understand, so it's ok." I just nodded, and didn't elaborate. It would have been really unlikely for her to believe that yes, I understood.
I understood. Completely.
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