How many times did your mother tell you not to wear precious gold rings to the lake? Because the water is cold, your fingers will shrink and the ring will slip off and you'll never be able to find it in the sands on the beach?
How many stories of the lost rings at this beautiful lake in the mountains have you heard in your life? Even a couple of friends lost theirs, and you thought, "How stupid is that, why didn't you take it off before going to the beach?" The lake is probably so full of rings of different designs and sizes now that anyone who could invest into a metal detector would make a fortune by retrieving and selling them.
But no, this time you had to wear me to the beach, didn't you? More than that, you had to play water volleyball with me on your ring finger, didn't you?
I will never forget the expression of horror on your face when you saw me slipping off your finger while you were serving the ball. You saw me sparkling in the sun as I flew high up in the air and then plopped into the water. You even followed my fall trajectory and thought you knew exactly where I landed. You leaped toward me right away, trying to catch me.
But you see, you run a lot slower in the water than on the shore. Besides, the sands are constantly shifting in the water. In a few seconds it took you to get to my landing spot, I was swallowed by the sand in the water completely.
You even stepped on me a couple of times trying to find me, but your weight only sent me deeper under your heels and knees. I was so close when you were trying to feel me out with your fingers! If only you went an inch deeper! But I know, the water was murky and you couldn't see well and I was moving around with the movement of the sand.
You asked your volleyball buddies for help. They tried to explain the physics of small things lost in the big shifting waters to you, but still obliged. They spent about 3o min circling the same spot around you and I even felt a couple of hands brushing against me briefly but again no one picked me up. Your buddies gave up soon before lunch, leaving you on the hot beach alone.
You just couldn't accept losing me. "But I know for a fact you are somewhere here!" I heard you talking to me and wanted to say, "Right? I am indeed right here, just move your hand a little deeper to the left!"
I was your favorite gold ring. Maybe because I was your very first. You'd always had a dream of buying your own gold ring from the first real salary you'd be paid, and when the opportunity presented itself you went to the jewelry store and found me. We connected right away, despite the saleswoman telling you it was a bad omen to buy a wedding band when you are not married.
You didn't really care. First, you couldn't care less about stupid superstitions. Second, I had the delicate Celtic pattern you'd never seen on a ring before that mesmerized you. It was like a call of ancient blood or history of your previous life, as you'd often tell your friends. They thought you were just running your wild imagination as you didn't have any connections to the Celtic culture and lived thousands of miles away from Ireland. You just couldn't resist me. In a couple of years that you constantly wore me on your wedding ring finger I was a pretty good ward-off for all sorts of undesirable male characters who attempted to hit on you. You'd just show them your ring, "I'm married and loyal," and they'd say something like "Lucky guy!" and move on.
And now I'm off your finger, swaying in the sands under your feet, hearing you cry for more than three hours of your fruitless search, pleading for me to show myself to you. I wish I had legs. Or fins. I would certainly have made every effort to make myself visible to you. Because I love you too...