Good Grief 311

I became aware today, how much I fiddle with my wedding ring. I had noticed before but rather more vacantly. This time I was much more conscious of it and wondered about it. I was doing it as I was focused and concentrating on other stuff, and then realised. Afterwards I wondered about it. Was it a comfort? A habit? Deflecting activity? An aid to focusing? Or a way of feeling some sort of continuing connection and attachment?

I've been feeling less safe lately. Tonight I can hear something outside. Probably some animal I guess.
And a feeling of disappearance. A sort of fading.
I wonder if the ring is an object that feels it has some sense of external solidity, of a reality somewhere, or a mark of a reality that once was.
I don't know much.