Lament to a Nose Ring

I had it for 6 years and now it's gone. There were no long goodbyes, no tearful partings. It was there, and then it wasn't. And I miss it and I don't. I miss the feeling it gave me, the sense of badassishness that it provided in a world where so often I'm not so badassish. I do not, however, miss worrying about losing it every time I blew my nose. In our time together, we became virtually inseparable. It never left my side (er, nose). In the end I suppose it decided it was time for a different path, as so many of life's pairings inevitably separate. Either that, or it was the constant wiping of sweat off of my face in our last game of 110-degree-weather golf. Either way, it's gone and I've decided that I will let it go. Actually, I decided that after several failed attempts to replace it. Apparently my nose had grown so accustomed to that particular stud that it had no eyes for any other. So, as my mother whispers silent prayers of thanks, I will go on, sans facial piercing. I wonder who this new person will be. I wonder where my need for the occasional feeling of badassishness will be satiated. Perhaps it is time for my first tattoo (sorry, Mom)?