The First Step

The ring has been sitting dormant in the bathroom cabinet for I don’t know how long. She gave it to me when I moved out West, despite my hesitation to be responsible for a thing of such value. "Wear this and remember that love transcends the bonds of time and space," she said, with a mix of fear and excitement in her eyes.

This morning I stood before the mirror, examining. Wrinkles and creases and my eyes appeared sallow. "You don’t appreciate yourself enough, Emily," and I thought I heard a call from a familiar voice, like the one I hear in my head every time I read that letter that she sent last October, the one that once made me weep and now makes me celebrate.

"Is your connection to yourself so tenuous, then? So many ripples and your focus is surface rather than below. You are a warrior, from a long, long line of warriors. We carried out your promise to yourself, we fought for that green stuff which has us so transfixed. You are the result of all of our gnashing of teeth and bloodshed! How glorious a thing..."

And so I opened the cabinet, picked up the ring, and reunited it with its home upon my finger. "This unspoken promise to yourself," I heard my voice say out loud, "is why we warriors rise to face another battle."