The end of forever

If I let go of something that never belonged to me in the first place, is anything actually lost? If the woman I loved spread herself among the stars — big men, small men, and men in between — have I lost anything? 

I loved her undeniably through my best years and through the worst of times. She was like a metronome in my heart, but one day that metronome stopped. That day was the end of forever. 

I don't know when it happened, but it happened as sure as the sun and moon. She died in my heart, and at her own hand. She pierced me through so many times, all the blood ran out, and I was left standing but with the wind whistling through my veins. She kept me on like a sharecropper to work her fields as my mind escaped over the hills and into the woods a thousand times. And, one day, it became a reality. I was gone, and she was left holding my broken chains. 

She always said she was afraid of "forever." Somehow, I got her to believe. When I put the ring (titanium, because our bond was strong, I said) on her finger, the inside was etched with the word "forever." My promise to her was until I died. What changed? Although I knew I could keep my promise, it was clear she could not. She seemingly took every opportunity to rape my concept of trust. She took and took and took until I had nothing to give, and then she went searching for love in other people. I thought I could always give her enough, but I was wrong. She was a bottomless pit. 

I've come to see the exit from my marriage as self-preservation. This is a hard thing to fathom. Was I being abused? Was my life at risk? Kinda. Sorta. It was clear my marriage was not helping me. It was clear I was being hurt. It was clear I had run out of solutions. It was clear she wasn't going to change. Yes, it was time to make my exit. 

I've held on to my wedding ring for a few reasons. First of all, it's titanium. I can't donate it or cash it in. Nobody wants a titanium band or any used wedding band. Diamond rings can be sold because the diamond itself is valuable. Lots of places such as www.worthy.com will buy diamond rings. Men don't traditionally have diamonds in their bands. My band cost me next to nothing anyway. It was the sentiment that made it valuable, and now that sentiment is long abandoned. Although I've sold quite a bit of my stuff recently, selling my wedding band isn't feasible. Also, I'm pretty sure a wedding band from a divorced man is considered a cursed object. I wouldn't completely disagree. 

It occurred to me to bury it here in the Black Hills. This is where our marriage died, after all. This is where we took a last stand and got torn apart. This is where the inevitable happened, as even she admitted. She said things couldn't have turned out any other way, and she didn't blame me for divorcing her. Big words. Good talk. 

So, here I am, burying the last bit of my marriage I was holding on to. I held on to her so tenaciously for so long. Once I stopped holding on, I realized she wasn't holding on to me at all. I was propping us both up. 

As I walk away from this little hole I've dug that will hold this ring for possibly the rest of time and cover it up, I realize I am closing a book and not just a chapter. I'm finally done and forever free of her in my heart. Burying a ring was the easy part.