My uncool ring.

I’ve been wearing this ring since I was about 14 years old. (And yes, my fingers doesn’t really grow much…)

I’ve always worn it for everything. Literally EVERYTHING. Swimming in the sea, canoe-kayaking, wakeboarding, sport climbing, river-dunking, fencing, basketball-ing, hockeying, cooking, bathing, working, attending weddings, going to the market, attending classes, handwashing clothes, sleeping…whatever. I NEVER take it off.

Not that I like it that much. It’s one of those things, when you’ve worn it for so long, you just kinda don’t  take it off.

I don’t even like gold. (The color I mean. In case anyone wants to buy me jewelery, I like white gold. *Hint* *Hint*.)

And I’ve always thought that it looks too….Chinese. Old. Grandmotherly. Basically, uncool.

I’ve always secretly wished that maybe one day I’ll lose it accidentally, so that I don’t have to wear it ever again. I just don’t have the heart to just take it off and not wear it. After all, I designed it myself (really, what you thought was cool when you were bleepin’ 14 doesn’t stay cool for too long) and my mom got it made and paid and everything.

After wearing it in hockey for so many years, one day, someone told me that if I get hit on that finger and it swells up, the ring is gonna cut off circulation to the swollen finger and basically cause it to die and they’ll have to cut my finger off.

Right. I don’t wanna lose my finger. So, occasionally, when I feel scared enough, I take it off and stash it in my wallet just before a game. But, instead of doing that before a game a few weeks ago, I gave it to the coach for safe-keeping.  And I forgot to ask for it back afterwards.

And I spent the next few weeks without it.

At first I was relieved. Wow. My secret wish has come true!

But then, after just a few days, I start feeling agitated and worried that maybe he’s lost it for real. It’s like when your kids don’t come home at the usual time and you start imagine all sorts of horrid stuff they might have happened to them. Maybe he left it at the pitch. Maybe it’s lost in his apartment. Maybe he brought it out but fell out of his pocket on the way. I didn’t realize that after having it for so long, it’s sorta become a part of me. It’s ugly. Uncool. But you don’t realize what you have until you don’t have it anymore. For the past few weeks, I feel like a part of me is missing. My hand looks empty. My finger looks empty.

It got to the point where I started browsing jewelery shops and considered buying another ring to replace the empty spot.

I’ve just gotten it back today and I feel totally relieved. I put it back on. It’s still ugly and uncool. But I feel so much better.

I get asked about it all the time, probably coz it’s wierd and ugly. And I usually cringe myself when explaining to people that it’s a ring I designed when I was bloody 14 and has been wearing it ever since. Who the hell designs shit like that and wear it literally forever afterwards?!

But still. I simply just have to wear it. I can’t explain it.


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