I didn't even realize she had it around her finger until she exclaimed, "Hey! We have exactly the same ring size."

I froze. I had just burned my hand on the stove, and I'd taken the ring off to rinse my palm under cold water. She plucked it from the counter and put it on. This woman does stupid sh*t sometimes, but this one tops the list.

I've had that ring for exactly three weeks. Technically, not even a full three weeks - I had to return it to the shop twice to get it resized and appraised. It has my fiancé's great grandmother's diamond in it.

If only she'd asked before she put it on. I would have told her "no" oh-so gently. Nobody has worn that ring besides me, and I'm selfish. It's mine and only mine, just like the man I'm going to marry next year.

She pulled it from her finger and gave it back to me, then said, "Try on my ring! A friend gave it to me."

I numbly slipped her ring over my finger. I know that she sees both the same. They're just rings to her. So it's hard to blame her. But my insides were boiling just as hot as the burn across my palm.

I left quickly after that and drove home in the dark, slapping the wheel and trying to keep my tears at bay. I'm frustrated with how thoughtless she was.

Isn't it a societal norm that you don't try on another person's engagement ring? How can I get over this and put on a smile while she's standing beside me at the altar?

Maybe I'll just elope.

My mom has a scar, faint and fine

on her index knuckle - a long, raised line.

But I must be insane.

My brain's at it again.

Just now, I looked down. The scar's mine.

I melt at his touch whenever he slips the shoes from my feet...among other clothing items.

He makes my skin green with greed for every inch of him.

He's a tall glass of water, and all I want to do is submerge myself. But when I pour myself into him, I never sink. He always floats me.

Guess I've failed the witch trials.

I'm not sure whether my friend is dead or alive.

They called me six months ago...it was one of those calls where you have to negotiate the blade out of their hands. It was like trying to put all these puzzle pieces back together at once, but halfway though you realize that you're also a puzzle, and your pieces are falling apart too, and you have to choose who gets to remain whole. It was hell.

I called the police.

I haven't talked to them since.

Nights like this, it's really hard to sleep. I'm shaking too violently to keep my pieces together.

Wednesday, June 30

First date mwahahahaha. I made you dress business casual because I was meeting you at the capitol directly after work. You wore khaki shorts and a blue collared shirt. Dare I say, I looked much more business casual than you. Talking to you was as easy as breathing.

Friday, July 2 (Morning)

You left handpicked flowers for me at work, and I freaked out because nobody I've ever dated has been so kind to me. I thought you might be a stalker.

Friday, July 2 (Evening)

I learned you were the worst kisser ever. Blarg. You picked me up after work, bought me DQ, and then we went to an overlook to watch the little city lights. Cuddling across the bench of you truck, I tilted my head back, and you proceeded to assault my mouth with your tongue. We watched the stars, and when you took me home I told you it wasn't going to work out.

Saturday, July 3

I caved in under 12 hours and told you that I still wanted to watch Independence Day fireworks together, with the promise that I'd pick you up and bring snacks containing the word "pop." Poprocks, popcorn, popsicles, soda pop.

Sunday, July 4

I only brought the poprocks, but tried to make up for it with Caprisuns, apple slices, Cheese Its, and Kit Kats. You lifted me over the fence at a baseball field outside of town, and we watched fireworks, cop cars, and kids with glow sticks. I let you kiss me again, and decided I could teach you how to be a better kisser.

Monday, July 5

You terrified me. Came over for dinner, played cards, rubbed my feet. When I let you into my bedroom to watch a movie, you kept...pushing. For more. I walked you out. We sat on your motorcycle and I told you no again.

Tuesday, July 6

I called you and told you no for real. You left a "No" buzzer for me at work.

Thursday, July 8

You cracked and started sending me memes over Instagram again. Asked me to go to the car show with you.

Saturday, July 10 (Morning)

You looked so funny, crazily wandering around the show, admiring the cars from every angle. I couldn't help but grab your hand and invite you to the concert I had planned to attend that night.

Saturday, July 10 (Evening)

You picked me up on the bike, and I held onto you for dear life going 30 mph. The music was fine. Dancing with you was better. Riding to the lake to stargaze with you was exciting. The way you tangled your hands in my hair and kissed me was the best.

Sunday, July 11

The waterfall hike. Bouncing up the trail in your truck was exhilarating.

Saturday, July 17 - Sunday, July 18

You somehow convinced me to go camping. (It was probably the promise of a queen sized air mattress that won me over. Or the promise of birds that ate out of our hands at the top of the ridge.)

Tuesday, July 20

I let you help me make homemade cookies, even though I hate sharing space in the kitchen.

Friday, July 23

You came over at literally broke my bed. We were moving furniture. I had bought a chest off Facebook Marketplace and needed your help fitting it in my room. And you broke the leg off my bed while moving it. I joked that that's not how I wanted you to break my bed. You helped me fix it this weekend. Buying wood from Homedepot (cue sexy wood jokes), sawing in notches, drilling in screws (cue sexy drill and screw jokes).

Saturday, July 24 (Last Night)

I warned you in advance that the first time we had sex was going to be bad. Not just bad, but really, really bad. Getting used to the way someone feels taking up space inside you...now that's uncomfy.

Sunday, July 25, 2:30 a.m.

The second time was a little bit better.

Sunday, July 25, 8:30 a.m.

My bed is looking better than ever. I have to teach you how to stop immediately when someone says no. But I have hope, because you're getting to be a better kisser.

So I was sitting on this man’s motorcycle (in park, not running), we were both straddling it, facing each other. He slung his jacked over my shoulders so that I could lean back against the handlebars comfortably. I put my legs on top of his. At one point he leaned forward and trapped me with his arms all sexy-like.

It was easily the most provocative position I’ve ever been in with a man...and yet, he just doesn’t get my engines running.

I don’t think I will ever (or, at least for a very long time) find anyone who I get along with as easily as this motorcycle-rider. Talking to him, being around him - it’s like breathing. It just comes so naturally. At times, I feel like I’m meant to be with him for the rest of my life.

But here’s the thing (well, two things): I met him a week ago. And we just don’t have any physical chemistry. No spark whatsoever.

I know, I really sound like a 20 year old girl right now. He’s the love of my life! I met him last week! It's a sexless fairy tale!

I’ve actually cut things off twice in the past five days because, holy sh*t, we’ve been moving too fast. Two days ago, I ended things “for real” because I really don’t want to get any more emotionally attached when I just don’t feel a physical spark.

He was breathing heavily over the phone when I broke it to him that I didn’t think we would be successful in the long run. We had this moment of unbearable silence before he whispered, “I guess I can’t change your mind.”

So here’s the question: I could see myself falling in love with this man. Do you think we could build that physical attraction? Or is it something that needs to be there from the start?