I finally took it off. The ring of hope that never did fit on any of my fingers, but still waiting to wrap itself to reality like a snake upon it’s prey. For a long time, it remained perched upon a cheap second hand necklace chain devoid of what symbolism I had intended to gloss into it. The numbers and results were never in my favor. It was only an ornament that I used to associate with love and hope, but eventually became a reminder of mortality in all aspects.
Did I have the guts to go after something that I thought would mean something to me? Yes. And when I yanked it off my neck like the noose it was, I also realized I had the guts to stop humoring myself. Despair is like rain, and pours over everyone indiscriminately. I know now to always carry a jacket.
I’m, by no means, a seer, but the inhumanity I’ve seen committed by angels can cast dark devious shadows on anyone. Always carry a jacket.