The calendar of our lives are marked not by dates or years but events. Events that lead our minds to organize the files of our existence into before and after.
Before kids. After college. Before I met him. After I left him. Before the storm. After the split.
Before cancer. After death.
How can it be that two years have passed away since he did? And yet how can it only be two years? The passage of time when met with the enormity of loss can play such tricks. The before sometimes feeling painfully short and the after an endless expanse.
But life, and time, marches steadily on despite our warped perceptions. And life is truly and magnificently good despite the fact that it must inevitably end.
I love him. I miss him. In this exceptional after.