Five years is 1,825 days.
It’s 12 steps and two weekly meetups.
It’s one husband, three therapists, and a better best friend.
It’s a boost on a bad day.
It’s a confession on a good one.
It’s a letting go of all that was lost when drowned.
It’s noticing flowers bloom, leaves change, skin prickle, water bend, sirens howl, clouds melt, squirrels race, backs curl, dumplings steam, cake melt, chest tighten, pink glow, humility work, and truth help—for the first time, over and over.
It’s the distance it takes to be the same shape, stitching, color, and silhouette of spirit—turned right-side out.
It’s the whole of all that is countless.
