A Picture of Loves - Part 6

There were no words now. They were stuck in a small fellowship of learners, and the only conversation that took place was through fleeting glances and mutual responses to other peoples inquiries.

For example, several weeks earlier T spoke of a movie he wanted her to watch so that she could understand the epiphany he had about himself and their now past relationship. She hadn't seen it at the time because she thought it looked corny. One of her professors mentioned the movie right after she had just recently watched it with A, unfortunately thinking of T the whole time, and weeping a little at the end as she understood T's epiphany, though it was still too late. She allowed A to think she was just an emotional girl, rather than know that she was still grieving the loss of T. When the movie was brought up to her in T's presence she told the professor earnestly that it was a very good movie. She knew this communicated to T that she now understood what he had wanted her to know. Yet still, there were no words between them other than the required courtesies of sharing a small space and community with one another. Perhaps everyone else was as uncomfortable as she was. She didn't know. She just knew that she had made a decision. That decision might come crumbling down if there were more words between them. So they continued their odd understanding of each other in silence. It was painful. She couldn't imagine three more years of this, but she knew it couldn't always feel like this.

Her ring was finally finished and she and A shared a lovely dinner to celebrate with a more traditional proposal (though without suspense). It felt strange to feel the weight of jewelry on her hand. For so long she had wanted this. In the desperately confusing times feeling rejected by T, she had looked upon her married friends hands and spouses that they had dated for shorter periods that she and T had, and she coveted. She so desired to be wanted and to belong to another person. The weight of the ring, so long in the making, now shouted its presence on her finger and made her terribly uncomfortable, however beautiful its voice.

Wearing it to school, she attempted to hide it all day. She had no desire to show it off here. She loved having it on, but longed for it to seem unnoticeable. All was discreet until the afternoon discussion when K shouted gleefully that she finally got her ring and then everyone wanted to see it. She felt his eyes. She knew that this signified a seriousness to him that her mere words had not. She felt his anguish and defeat. She felt the sadness welling up within him as he quietly stood and left the room, unbeknown to anyone at the time that he was leaving the fellowship permanently and relieving the discomfort of their silent co-existence. Her mouth smiled at joy others wanted to share with her, but her eyes could not as her heart felt punctured knowing his was crushed.

She thought of action films when there was a guy with a gun on his victim where the only way to get free is for the victim to pull the trigger through their own body, into their captors, releasing them. Both wounds would be unnecessary if decisions had been made differently. Unfortunately, the wound is sometimes the only way when the struggle has so passionately intertwined two characters. She felt the freedom and the pain. She looked forward to when the rings weight would become normal, and its notoriety fade.