Turning the ring
Ever since I was in the seventh grade, I've had this ring (pictured left with my fat fingers). It's called a Claddagh Ring. Being from a very Irish family on my mom's side, it was only natural I would get one.
From the time I heard the story about these rings to the time when I actually bought mine I was intrigued. The story alone is enough to make a young girl think of finding her own Mr. Right. I had always imagined that someday, if I wore the bloody thing long enough, it would get turned around. You see, for as long as I can remember, it's always pointed out. Showing the world my singleton status.
Sure I've dated on and off but to me, turning the ring is a big deal. Almost on the same level as using the b word for the first time. I've only done it twice in my life despite the number of men I've been through so far in my 30 years. Elain had her spongeworthy test. I have my ringworthy test.
Mr. M and I have been on at least four dates in as many weeks. Usually it's just to spend time in each other's company. Sometimes dinner after he is finished with work. Sometimes just to sit on the couch and watch a movie. And even just to lay down on my bed and take a nap...no, really, that's all that happened! I've never been so comfortable with someone so quickly. And to be honest, I'm a little scared.
I'm trying not to jump ahead or hold myself back because, again, after as many years of dissapointing heartbreaks as I've had, it becomes habit. It just gets to the point where it's easier to keep yourself walled up. Less chance of being hurt, you see.
But for some reason, Mr. M draws that out of me. Or I should say, draws me out of my wall. Knocks it down a little. Maybe because he doesn't seem to have any expectations other than to just spend time together. Maybe it's because I'm just so damn comfortable with him. I don't know.
What I do know is that, for the first time yesterday, I turned the ring without even thinking about it.