I’ve been wearing my class ring lately as a reminder.
The year on it is the first year I stepped out on my own. That was the first year where my choices began to shape my destiny.
How long has it been now and I still don’t have what I want? How many years have gone by settling? The sight of that number stirs me up
One side is a writing emblem. Writing was my love then and I wish I had made it my goal in the first place. Instead I had chosen science, but my love for it was nothing more than that. I had no skill for it no matter how hard I tried. I wish I had had the courage to choose writing.
On the other side of the ring, I had wanted the school crest like my mother’s old ring, but I took an academic symbol in it’s place. Now I understand what that means – it means that all my activities during my childhood were not as important to me. How many hours did I waste on those things when I could have spent more time before the empty page? Not even science was important enough to sit on my ring.
And I had loved the concept of this ring. It looked magical in it’s design and personalization.
I chose white gold and a red ruby stone that appeared to glow like fire. I loved wearing it and I stopped when someone asked for it. Reluctantly, I gave it away out of love.
However, after fully explaining what the ring meant to me… what the ring still means to me, I got it back.
Funny thing now is that I can’t get it off easily. Once I put it on, it sticks to my finger and won’t let go.
It’s as if it’s gripping me tightly and saying, “Don’t you remember all the dreams you had? Don’t you remember wanting to be something? You’ve forgotten yourself, and now is the time to remember.”