Is it the silence that stretches between us,
a chasm carved by unspoken words?
Or the echo of arguments,
reverberating in the empty spaces we inhabit?

Did the rhythm of our lives fall out of sync,
when the new job demanded more than just time?
Or when the baby arrived,
and sleep became a forgotten luxury?

Does the weight of the world,
press down so heavily on your shoulders,
that there's no room left for me?
Or is it my own anxieties,
that build walls between our hearts?

Have we grown in different directions,
like branches reaching for sunlight,
oblivious to the roots entwined beneath the soil?
Or has the fire of intimacy dwindled,
leaving only embers of what once burned bright?

Are there needs I haven't acknowledged,
a yearning for something I can't quite name?
Or is it a weariness of the soul,
a longing for a peace I cannot find?

Could the shadows of depression,
or the whispers of anxiety,
be clouding your perception of our love?
Or is it simply the mundane,
the everyday grind that dulls the senses?

Is this distance a temporary detour,
a bump in the road we can overcome together?
Or a signpost,
pointing towards separate paths?

Is Valentine's Day just a reminder,
of the closeness we once shared?
Or an opportunity,
to rekindle the flame that flickers low?

Is love a constant,
or a fragile bloom,
requiring constant care and attention?
Or is it a choice,
a daily decision to stay,
even when the road gets rough?

And the ultimate question,
hanging heavy in the air tonight,
as the scent of roses mingles with uncertainty:
is this love worth fighting for?

A ring, not just metal and stone,
but a whispered promise,
a tangible piece of my heart offered to you,
my Dragon Princess of the East.

It sits before me, a vision taking form,
rose gold warmed by imagined sunlight.
Floral vines, delicate yet strong,
climb and twist, embracing the gems.

Amethyst and moonstones,
blossoms of purple and pearly light,
scattered amongst the leaves,
a garden captured in miniature.

Is it engagement, then wedding,
or a seamless blend of both?
The rings intertwined, inseparable,
a symbol of a love without beginning or end.

Alexandrite, chameleons of light,
nestle beside the Amethyst,
their colors shifting, whispering secrets,
a dance of green and purple, a perfect harmony.

And at the heart of it all,
a trillion-cut diamond,
blazing with an inner fire,
a beacon of unwavering brilliance.

The ring is not alone.
Dangle earrings echo its beauty,
Royal cut Alexandrites cascading,
from small to large, a symphony of color.

Three stones aligned,
a delicate dance of light and shadow,
catching the ear, whispering of magic,
a perfect complement to the ring's embrace.

And then, the necklace,
a tear-shaped Alexandrite pendant,
resting against the alabaster skin,
a single drop of captured starlight.

It hangs suspended,
a breath held, a moment frozen,
a promise whispered against the skin,
a symbol of a love that transcends time.

The entire set, a constellation of dreams,
born from my heart, offered to you,
a testament to a love that blooms eternal,
A Circlet of Dreams, waiting to be worn.

A box, small and unassuming,
holds more than metal and stone.
Three rings, each a chapter closed,
a story whispered, then silenced.

The first, a Hawaiian sun,
gold warm against my skin,
a maile leaf lei etched in enamel,
a promise of island days,
a love as bright as the tropic bloom.
But the bloom faded, the sun set,
and the lei withered, a memory
of sand and surf, and a love
that sought solace in another's arms.

The second, silver, a simple band,
smooth and cool against my finger.
A barrel, strong and unadorned,
like the love we built, or so I thought.
A quiet strength, a steady hand,
a foundation laid, brick by painful brick.
But the foundation crumbled, the walls fell,
and the silver tarnished, a reflection
of a love that found comfort elsewhere.

The third, titanium, cold and hard,
dragons entwined in gold, a symbol
of power, of a love that burned bright.
A fierce embrace, a passionate fire,
a connection that felt unbreakable.
But the fire dwindled, the dragons slept,
and the titanium grew heavy, a weight
on my hand, a reminder of a love
that sought warmth in another's gaze.

Children grown, their laughter echoes
in the empty rooms of my heart.
Their friends, once my own, now strangers,
their lives moving forward, while I remain
anchored to the past, a silent observer.
A long-distance love, a whispered promise,
a fragile thread connecting two souls,
but the distance stretches, the thread thins,
and the whispers fade into the wind.

I stare at the box, at the rings within,
each a symbol of what was, what could have been.
A new ring beckons, a design forming
in the depths of my mind, a symbol of hope,
of a future yet unwritten.
But doubt whispers, a serpent in my ear,
was it me? Was I not enough?
Or were the circles simply incomplete,
destined to break, to shatter, to fade?
The Weight of Circles, heavy on my soul.