I dropped my engagement ring - blame it for my tiredness, listlessness or was it a sign to watch out for? Or dread about?
Which reminded me that I also dropped it the first night I had it - and the clink sound I heard as it hit the cement floor - and how I profusely apologized to Robin for my clumsiness, to which he said was OK and if I remember, he said "it's diamond. It should be fine."
And earlier was the same. Nervousness hit me and imagining how Robin would react seeing the engagement ring he gave me being dropped like that - again.
Perspiration attack, I fumbled to look for it. I immediately searched the first shelf of my cabinet to see if it dropped on my stuff there - trinkets' box; hair accesories; earrings' pouch; socks, undies, belt, but found nothing.
I went on and haphazardly looked for it in the assortment of boxes but still nothing there on the second shelf. Then I tried to look for it at the lowermost shelf, quickly scanned my engagement ring among the bags piled there. I didn't find it.
Panic ensuing, I had to ask my brother to step out of the room so I could turn it upside down to look for my ring. I even turned on and off the light; used my pen light; swept under the tables, my suitcase, chairs; scrambled upon my bag of laundry and pulled out a couple of clothes just to see if my ring fell there. Nothing. No shiny, white gold band, princess cut diamond engagement ring.
My mother even offered to help as she urged me to have my dinner first and assured me that my ring was just in the room. But I ignored her while I was really tensed and keep repeating and repeating "please, please, show up. Show up." It was a plea not only to find my ring but also a plea to show up what I need to show up.
I went again to my cabinet, and this time, scanned carefully the three shelves. Still nothing. I slumped on the floor, feeling the huge drops of sweat on my shorts, trying my hardest not to cry and praying that my ring - the engagement ring, the material symbol that signified my union with the only man I will love in my lifetime - to please show up.
Collecting an ample amount of calmness and focus, I searched again my cabinet. And there, on the lowermost shelf, at the leftmost corner covered by the red sports bag I have, there was my ring. What a relief!
Using my pen light, I scanned it to see if the stone got chipped or the braces holding the stone still all right. It looked fine, still looks fine, and shone as the pen light was spotted on it. I safely put it back in its velvet box and I should bring it again to a trusted jewelry shop to see if the stone is still set tightly and to have it cleaned.
I'm relieved to have my engagement ring back. That 10 to 15 minutes I lost it felt too much. Sure, it's expensive, but beyond that, that ring is somehow my only proof, my only hope for now - that princess cut diamond sitting on top of a white gold band - that ring will see through wear and tear; will lose its brilliance somehow; will be chipped in due time; but there's always the cleaning and resetting options to have it as new as ever.
If only life could be as tough as diamond - no matter how rough, it will be polished by expert hands and be treasured through time. And I'm staying tough, no matter how hard, in these rough times. I just have to patiently wait to bring back the brilliance that's missing now due to hurtful reason/s not entirely known to me ....