Engagements are all congratulatory wishes and bridal showers until they end without a wedding. Along with the usual breakup activities—“dividing of things,” “starting over of lives”—there’s the even more awkward “deciding of who gets to keep the 10-karat (or 1-karat) ring.” According to a Conde Nast Bridal Media study, the average engagement ring cost is $4,435, so this ain’t chump change. We ask two people in the wedding industry who gets to keep the rock, after the jump, and then ask you to take a position in the comments.

There will be some point in your career as a twentysomething when someone will break your heart, and bad. And by bad I mean, you may think you are having a nervous breakdown and will have the desire to be hospitalized. In some cases, this actually may happen. Here’s how to deal:

Suck it up: When I was crying at my desk, my older, married co-worker sat down and looked me straight in my tear-stained eyes and said, “You have to understand, this guy might be one of a bunch of different guys you will date until you find someone who’s really in it to win it,” he said. I don’t know why, but putting this person who had just knocked me on my ass within the context of a long line of potential douche bags down the road somehow made it hurt a bit less.

I met Duke* in Paris. He was actually British, visiting from London, and I was there from New York, sent by the magazine I worked for to cover the fashion shows. My boyfriend back in New York had just broken up with me for the bajillionth time, and I was devastated (as usual). When I met Duke, a blue-eyed scruffster with a gorgeous accent and a mischievous grin, the chemistry was immediate, and somehow I knew that he might provide just the rebound romp to lift me out of Dumpsville.

Can you be friends with an ex? The Sun seems to think so, as long as you don’t become a “bunny boiler,” British slang for “totally crazy.” Sex writer Emily Dubberley says remaining friends with a former lover is all about having good ex-iquette and recognizing when your presence in each other’s lives is causing more harm than good. That means no drunk dialing, no ex-sex, and no being judgey wudgey about every person they date after you, even if that person is the poor man’s version of your brilliance. But herein lies the problem—can you be good friends with an ex who you seriously, majorly loved? Or will the fact that even the tiniest of feelings remain forever nix the potential for a real friendship?