2002-04-09 - 11:56 p.m.
Five-Year Landmark

Today was April the 9th.

If you look back in my diary to April 9, 2001, you won't find any entry. I was in my anti-Diaryland phase during April and May last year, unfortunately. Not that it mattered. I don't think I even remembered it last year. I wouldn't have this year, either, except for a series of wierd mental associations late last night.

I was typing merrily away at my computer when the clock crossed the magic midnight line, and I frowned at it in frustration. I hate the fact that I have to wake up just after 6am every day. If I had my 'druthers, I'd sleep from 4am until 11am every day; my most productive hours are from 9pm until 3am. So I shut down the computer, frowned, and started getting ready for bed.

Last night was worse than most nights. I bounced around the apartment for half an hour, annoying my brother no end, moving this thing and that around because I was too wired even to lie down and stare at the ceiling. Somewhere during this figdeting, I noticed that I was rubbing my left ring finger.

It itched. Not in the needs-a-scratch way, though; more a phantom pressure, a tangible absence. It's been bothering me the last week or so since I stopped wearing my heavy silver Celtic knot ring; I had decided that I didn't want any ring-tan on my wedding finger this year. Anyway, the "itch" reminded me of the reason I'd bought the silver ring to start with.

On April 9, 1997, I gathered up everything I had that belonged to the Weatherman, including the engagement ring, and gave it back to him in a shoebox in the student center at the university. Tacky, maybe. Heart-broken, fearful, despairing, certainly. Fidgeting with my suddenly naked finger in the aftermath just made everything worse, so I bought another ring to replace it, and declared it my "commitment ring". (You know, the ones Christian kids wear as a promise to God that they'll wait for the "right one" to come along).

So there I was, about 24 hours ago, staring at my finger, all this running through my mind, when it suddenly occured to me, Hey, today is April 9th! I stopped in the middle of the hallway and grinned.

I haven't stopped grinning all day, even when I was getting soaked going to do inventory in the rain, even when my supervisor was giving me obtuse orders.

Until I have another, larger relationship landmark to celebrate, I think I'll keep on celebrating April 9. Foolish of me, perhaps, but for obscure reasons, it makes me feel hopeful.