05. my heart can't possibly break when it wasn't even whole to start with

Notes: Just a bit of introspection. Because I can. :) No title as of yet but it's not really much of anything, so perhaps it doesn't need one.


The ring wasn't supposed to mean anything. It wasn't.

It was just sitting there innocently, shining inside that little blue box as it stared at her. It was so beautiful. Three stones—man made diamonds but still lovely—set in silver, the middle bigger than the other two. It was too nice. It was too small for her to wear. Somehow, though, getting it resized didn't feel right. It went on a chain instead—another gift from the same source. It fell with the necklace just fine.

Sometimes she'd finger the ring and wonder what it meant. It wasn't supposed to mean anything but it felt like it did. Did she own the ring or did it own her? Sometimes she wanted to rip the ring off and throw it against a wall. Sometimes it made her want to scream. Sometimes she wanted to actually wear it like a ring.

Sometimes she wanted to drop the ring in the toilet and flush it away. It was too much for her. And whatever it meant, she knew she didn't like it.

Because it made her sad. She didn't know why but it did.

Did it break her heart because she wanted it to be from a lover? Or at least from someone who really loved her instead of from someone who made her wonder if love was a pretend thing. Someone who'd try to save her from her loneliness. Someone who wanted to be with her for all the right reasons instead of the wrong ones. Because the person who gave it to her… he said he loved her—he said it all the time. But saying didn't mean anything when the actions didn't match the words.

He reminded her every time he hurt her. When he'd hurt her without ever seeming to care. She wanted him to care—wanted it to matter enough for things to change—but she knew better. She didn't want to, but she did. Too damn smart for her own good. And tired. She was so damn tired. She felt like she didn't know which way was up—didn't know which direction to go.

Other than away from here. That much was certain. It'd been decided when the hurt became too much to bear. When desperation had given way to anger and the truth had finally stared her so obviously in the face that she couldn't ignore it any longer. What hadn't been decided was what to do with the ring. Throw it away or keep it? Resize it to wear or hide it away? It felt like a heavier decision than it should.

What did it mean?

It wasn't supposed to mean anything, she knew. And maybe one day it wouldn't. Today wasn't that day, though. (Tomorrow wouldn't be, either.)