The glass Ring that Turned to water

"I was standing in the front row of an old, dusty church hall, trying to fasten a pair of heavy silver cuffs onto my wrists for a ceremony I didn't remember agreeing to. Suddenly everyone stood up, and I realized I was the one walking up the aisle. At the front stood a man whose face kept blurring every time I tried to look directly at him, though I had this deep, unshakeable feeling that we'd known each other for decades. Someone handed us a heavy glass ring to share, but as soon as he slipped it onto my finger, it turned into a handful of lukewarm water that splashed onto the stone floor. I looked around for my shoes, but then I was abruptly sitting in an empty, sunlit kitchen wearing a plain rain jacket, holding a cold mug of black tea while a gentle piano tune played from an old radio in the corner, leaving me with this lingering, hollow question echoing inside my head."