Maybe usually means no.

About a month before we broke up, my ex and I went to a weekend-long wedding out of town. It was so lovely: a quaint resort in the Catskills, a room in the cutest bed and breakfast ever, ponds and streams and barns. We were both pretty enchanted by the event. One night while we were there, he turned and said to me, “Maybe we could have something like this.”

My heart swelled.

Early on in our relationship (and throughout it) we discussed marriage. He was adamant in not wanting it, I was adamantly ambivalent. Coming from a divorced family, I just don’t think it’s necessary. Commitment is necessary, not marriage. And I see NO reason for a big day filled with hoopla. But of course every one wants someone to want to marry them, right? I wasn’t looking to get married, but when the man I love said, “Maybe we could have something like this,” how could I not get all gooey inside? I remember waking up the next day and thinking, “He wants to marry me.” It was like Christmas morning or something. I didn’t realize how big a deal it was to me for him to have the intent. We could have gone on happily for the next 40 years without actually getting married but the fact that he wanted to seal the deal, even just a little, meant a lot to me.

Funny how quickly things fell apart after that. You could analyze it any number of ways: maybe I realized that he wasn’t serious. Maybe he realized that I wasn’t the right person to marry. Maybe he realized that he had said that in an emotional moment and "maybe" meant "no." I don’t know. But now that I got a taste of the metaphorical wedding cake, I think I want more. I don’t want the planning or the presents, the big day or the spotlight focus. I don’t want a weekend wedding in the Catskills. I don’t even know if I want any wedding. I just want the intent; the, “maybe we could have something like this.” Because we really could have, and I still can.

If You Liked It Then You Shoulda At Least Offered to Put a Ring On It

All my attached but not married ladies, put your hands up. Show me those sparklers! Wait, you don't have one?

Well aren't we modern. We gotta stop that.

As you get to know me, you'll realize that I am ambivalent towards marriage. It seems antiquated, based in a time where women were more possessions than partners, and, let's face it, not too many marriages last. In general, my attitude is, "Meh. Why bother?" Its symbolism (the big flowery day, the big flowery dress, the big flowery bill) is kind of lost on me. A symbol that I do love, however, is the ring.

I know what you're thinking. 'Sigh...a gold digger like all the rest.' Hold up, there, Kanye. Let me finish.

Just because you don't plan to walk down the aisle doesn't mean you aren't 100% dedicated to your significant other. Classier than a t-shirt that says, "I'm This Guy's Bitch," and less ostentatious than a billboard in Times Square, a ring is great middle ground. And when I say, "ring," I mean a simple, tasteful band that whispers, "I'm taken," rather than shouting, "I'M ENGAGED, DAMN IT! I'M ENGAGED AND MY FIANCE BOUGHT THIS FOR ME!" That's not very ladylike. You're on notice.

Aside from the obvious symbolism of being committed, rings have all sorts of fun historical significance, my favorite being their representation of the infinite. An unending circle. I think that's just so lovely and simple. That infinite love can be romantic or fraternal (think class rings or the broken heart 'Best Friend' monstrosities we all wore as schoolgirls) or even nerdtacular ("One ring to [whatever] them all." I can never remember how that goes...) How cool is it that one symbol can represent so many different types of love?

No matter what your views on traditional marriage vs. modern partnerships, the fact remains that most ladies like jewelry, and we like what it represents, especially when it comes from you.