Misplaced Not Lost

I tumble in the waves. The grime being washed away as the sand polishes me. I once adorned the finger of a happy bride to be. Purchased by a bright eyed hopeful young man with hearts in his eyes. Hearts that grew with each sight of his hearts diamond. She was dainty and a pillar of beauty. I was a cherish symbol of a promise, how I came to be here I can not believe. I miss her finger and gentle skin that brought me to loved handshakes and hugs, to dinners at some of the best restaurants, to libraries where we read amazing books, to fields of flowers where she formed bouquets, to breakfast where she didn't even take me off when kneading dough. Now I sit without a perch, promise gone, now lacking all meaning other than a once pretty object. A wave deposits me further on the sand bank. I roll and flop with the leafy grean and brown flora of the sea. What a distance I have come. Birds occasionally peck at me once they notice the glint in the sun. Just a few pecks until they find they have no use of me and my metallic taste displeasing to the taste buds. I wonder what is next for me. I wonder how my keeper is, what she is doing, if she misses me.

One Night oddly she took me off, crying. she set me by the bathroom sink. Never had she done this. She was not her composed self. She used the toilet, brushing the counter as she went to was her hands. This action caught me. I tumbled and bounced and plopped in. With a flush my old life was gone. I found myself stuck in the dark. I was scared and lonely, but then the flood gates opened and I found my way to fresh air and sunlight. I reclaimed some dignity.

I know she is longing for me like I long for her. She must be so worried. She must be looking everywhere for me. She must feel like the most important heirloom is missing. How embarrassed she must feel in the mans presence having lost his gift to her.

Hey, what is going on here. Who are you? What is this? A man's rough fingers pluck me from my sandy bed.

"Whoa, look at this? I just found a ring on the beach. The owner is lucky I found it. Lets check if there has been any police reports of stollen or missing rings."

A second man walks over to the first.

"Wow okay. I'll meet you back at the station, I have one more stop."

At the station I have my photograph taken. I'm placed in a plastic bag a shoved in a drawer. I hear my photo is going to be in the newspaper. That's exciting since I've been so lost and ignored for so long. The drawer is dark and musty. I'm happy the plastic bag keeps me from sitting directly inside of it. It's stuffy and I can't believe this is how they treat something that is going to have an image in the paper. Fame just isn't what it use to be. I saw magazines of the famous with my owner and it all looked so grand.

I sat so long in this dark drawer, I began to miss the sand bank. The scortching sun that overheated me. The waves that would wash me to cool me down. Now, I was completely forgotten. Forgotten to a police station. The crime existing in this very station, the crime of neglect.

Just when I was sure I'd lose my mind I heard a familiar sound. Yes, I'm sure of. I heard her hello. It sounded older, different, but recognizably hers.

"Where did you find it?"

"The beach."

"The beach? How did it ever get there. How was it's condition? It's been a while."

"It might need some buffing, but not too bad."

I became embarrassed. I guess I was not exactly what I originally was, but who is. Live what I have endured and I'm sure you would not be at your best.

Slowly the drawer opens. The man reaches in and snatches me up. He opens the bag.

"Can I see the picture you brought and proof of purchse?"

"Yes, here.", she replied shyly.

"Well that's definitely it. Here, it's yours."

I feel the soft familiar hands reach in and then hold me up to the light. Her eye's investigating me. She began smiling.

"I can't believe it. Thank you. Thank you. I thought it was gone forever."

She had been missing me. I felt her cherished adoration. What is this? On her finger is a new ring. A more modern one. Had she replaced me? Am I replaceable? How long had she looked? The hurt probably lessened my appeal. I felt her lips kiss me. All my discrepancies with her disintegrated. I warmed to her touch again. She took off the other ring and put me on her finger. She held her hand at a distance and admired me like she use to. I then felt for the other ring. It probably doesn't understand, doesn't know our history, misses it's perch.

She wears me as she drives us all home. I slide along the railing on her finger to her bedroom. When we get there, she goes to a beautiful intricatly carved wood box. She opens the box. Inside is a satin pillowy bed. She places me on it, but leaves the box open. She places the other ring back on her finger. She is right, I need to rest after such an ordeal. What an ornate box to keep just for me. I wonder how long she has had it waiting for me.

"Now you stay safely in there. I can't believe I got you back. It has to be a good omen for my marriage."

She let me rest. She would occasionally hang out with me while she completed tasks or watched tv. Always checking in with me. That night she showed the young man, now, just a man. His expression confirmed my place here. He kissed her, why he didn't kiss me I'm not sure, but he was overjoyed.

I sit in my bed waiting for her to take me out. She must think my journey made me very tired because I've been resting a very long time. There is no better resting place. She comes to the room everyday, but I miss her kisses and soft skin. I miss our trips together. One day I know we will have another time together. I just know it.





Sent from my Galaxy