As I drove home from work today, I glanced down at my left ring finger and wondered where my ring was. Again.
I’ve never been married – never even been on a second date – but I live with this feeling that I’m missing someone. I’ll reach over to the other side of the bed, only to find my laptop or yesterday’s laundry; my left thumb will reach to adjust the phantom ring on my finger; I’ll walk out of the grocery store and look around to start counting my kids’ heads before we get to the car.
It’s the weirdest feeling. It’s like taking an extra step at the top of a staircase, simultaneously feeling confused at the unexpected, and stupid for expecting it. In my nerdy moments, I’m pretty sure I’m living in an alternate timeline. Read More