... today is 3 months.
I had an email yesterday, which was a surprise, from the She-Ex, to say that yesterday was 3 months, by her maths and she hoped we were doing ok. Yesterday we were. But 3 months is today. 13 weeks was yesterday. Petty, aren't I.
But I didn't have to do any maths, because it's ingrained in my life. And I'm glad.
Yes, I'm glad.
Glad because it hurts so much because he meant so much.
Glad because I know how long it is without checking.
Glad because I can celebrate his passing again, on my own, without any fakery from others.
Glad because I can celebrate his passing with some of his real friends tonight.
Glad because I know he loves us, and he knows we love him.
Real deep unchanging glorious technicolour love.
Not something to be replaced with just another warm body in the bed - I have no need for all that.
Not something to be replaced with just another number to text, or address to email - I have friends for that.
Not something to be packed up, given away, thrown away, left behind.
Real deep love, that a man has for the woman of his hearth and heart, and that she has for him. Real respectful love, that a child has for his parents, and his parents have for him. AC was not the child of his body, but he was a child of his heart, and the child of his hearth.
Today, I glory in having known him, and deciding that whilst life is what we make it, so is death, and I will not mourn today.