My wonderful partner bought me a bracelet for our two years anniversary. He remembered me commenting on his sister’s anklet maybe twice over the course of our relationship and bought me a beautiful diamond and gold bracelet with an infinity symbol on it. He gave it to me in a McDonald’s parking lot because on the day of our anniversary, we were joining his family on a camping trip. This was very gracious of me; I am not the biggest fan of camping. I love the outdoors, don’t get me wrong; I like to hike and fish and kayak and just read in the sunshine. But I also like clean, indoor plumbing and central heating and air. In fact I like them quite a lot. But I love my partner even more so I picked him up from work, stopped at McDonald’s, and then headed to the campground on our special day. 

I wore the bracelet/anklet on my wrist that weekend because I wanted to be able to show it off, of course. Only when we got home on Sunday did I try to slip it over my heel, and it did not fit. It didn’t have a usual clasp; instead the ends of the bracelet slid through a bead, allowing me to tighten it (which I also appreciated, since I don’t like loose jewelry). But this meant I couldn’t undo it to put it around my ankle. I still appreciated it, of course, and wore it proudly pretty much everyday. I like leaving jewelry like that on all the time. It’s a reminder, a label, that someone loves me; it keeps them close. But I took the bracelet off for things like showers and dishes as I didn’t want it to tarnish overly quickly. 

Then one day only a few weeks later when taking off my shirt, the bracelet caught on the fabric and tore open one of the links, breaking the bracelet. I was quite upset. This was an anniversary git, a very pretty one, and the second piece of jewelry from my partner that I’d broken. But then I thought about it for two seconds. I asked my partner to get a pair of pliers, wrapped the chain around my ankle, and he clamped the chain closed, now placed where I had wanted it to go in the first place.

My life also recently broke a little bit. In March, my roommate of the past 5 years moved 4 hours away to live with his girlfriend. In May, I moved out of the big city that I’ve lived in my whole life about an hour and a half away to a teeny tiny town to live with my partner of 2 years. Because of this move, I had to leave the job that I’ve had on and off for 8 years, working with a pair of twins with disabilities. I’ve known the twins since they were 8 years old, and now they’re 16. I’ve been through Covid with them, homeschooling, major surgery, emotional breakdowns, and the day to day struggles that come with the type of health issues that the twins have. Of course, I’m very happy to be with my partner everyday now instead of only seeing him on the weekends. But my busy life full of friends and my fulfilling “job” of helping take care of the strongest little warriors I know is now gone. Given the option, I don’t believe I ever would have chosen to leave the big city or my job without the presence of my partner. So while I’m satisfied with my choice, I miss what I had. Life feels a little broken.

But now, I am learning about small town life and living with my amazing partner. And now that I’m moved in and settled, I’m also looking for jobs. And for the first time in my adult life, I’m looking for a job in a career field that I’m truly passionate about: writing and editing.  I never would have chosen to leave the twins, and I don’t regret that decision. But life broke a little bit, so I’m grabbing a pair of pliers and putting it where I wanted in the first place.