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11-26-01 - 9:03 p.m.

Tonight I gave Rob back the ring he bought for me. I had it in a tiny envelope with his name written on the outside. After eating dinner with George and Sharon (I'd driven to their house, left my car, and ridden with them to the restaurant), I took a minute to hand it to him.

Feebly he felt it with fingertips jutting out from matching arm casts. It was clear that he knew exactly what was in the envelope. He didn't even ask me to help him take it out, just left it inside. "You don't want it anymore?" he asked me.

For a fleeting moment, I felt cruelly satisfied to see the look of confused anguish on his bandaged face. I told him it didn't seem right for me to have the ring he gave me if he wasn't going to be around to see it on my finger. He nodded, placed the envelope on the table by his bed, and I took my leave.

I'm not worried he'll give it to Scarlett or anyone else. We'd gone and had it engraved with his nickname for me on the inside.

I don't know exactly why I did it. Maybe I wanted "closure." Maybe I was just sick of looking at it. Either way, I feel pretty good. Accomplished.

My lungs hurt.

 

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