When we were all discussing plans for this vacation, where we would go and what would be done and such, I wished to go visit Lake on the Mountain, which I still think of as the closest representation of the lake San and I shared once, and which remains accessible to me. Lake on the Mountain is an unusually deep lake, with a legend of love attached, and once I thought this spoke of our love quite well, particularly the depth of it.
I had decided to throw my ring into it; not the Consort ring San returned to me in the mail. But an older ring, one we exchanged in a sense early in our relationship, white gold and sapphire, as a kind of wedding-band.
But when the time came I found I had no heart for either. Not to visit the lake nor to give up my ring. Many here say ah well, next year, or even if I feel the need to go, it might be done as a day-trip sometime. But I feel it more as a failure within myself. The expectation is that I will recover one day. At first I thought never, then I thought perhaps. But now I cannot think of it at all in any sense. What would it look like?