There was the physicality of it — a circular band that was the only bit of jewelry that he regularly wore, that had worn a slight groove in his fourth finger, and left its inverse tan when it was off.
There was the societal function — proclaiming that he was spoken for, that he was pair bonded, theoretically, for life.
There was the spiritual aspect of it — a band that never begins and never ends, but continues both finite and infinite.
But what was the true meaning of it, he wondered. What did it mean to him, as a person, a primate on a rock revolving around a continuing nuclear explosion hurtling through space for as long as was allowed?
It was a simple thing, this bit of metal, but when he stopped to think about it — really stopped and really contemplated — it simply reminded him of her. Even when she wasn’t there, she was, in a way. She had a permanent spot in his mind and in his soul, of course, but the ring was a physical reminder, ever so slight, that she was there for him, always. A statement of purpose and a statement of fact.
Mindful of all this, he put the ring back on his finger, and felt it settle into the groove it had formed.