Nail That to Your Bedpost

“‘I seem to have fallen in love with someone else. I’m moving out.’ … Finally, she agreed to meet me in a pub in the West End. A bustling, crowded, very public place. I suppose we both thought that would help reduce the possibility of unseemly emotional scenes – not that she was really given to such things. Which made it doubly affecting when I arrived at the pub and immediately saw her, very openly weeping, as I entered. My heart melted. She was as upset as I was. She was having dreadful regrets. There was hope. I walked up to her, put my arm around her. She leaned into me, buried her face in my shirt, crying audibly. I had never heard her do that before. I stroked her hair, said… I don’t know… gentle, loving things. All was not lost. There was hope. She pulled away, didn’t look at me. ‘He’s left me!’ … I stood up, looked at her with vague disgust and just… immense disappointment. And I took off my wedding ring, tossed it on the table in fron of her and said, ‘Nail that to your bedpost.’ ¬†And Walked out. And never saw her again.”

Commenter on a Metafilter thread about when to stop wearing your wedding ring during a breakup.