So, yesterday would have been a year. I had put a guess in my daily calendar, maybe a month and a half ago: Will I make it to a year? Useless milestone markers. The end results are the same, all the time.
I composed a last email message; sent it off at approximately the same time last year that I first met him. It started off as matter-of-fact that I never wanted it to end the way it had...and I tailed off into a few truthful accusations that he'll probably read into as flaws from me. I'm feeling only a slight tug of compulsion to check for a reply or lack of a reply. A good sign, I suppose.
But who am I kidding? I didn't even make it a day before I opened the email to check for any reply...There wasn't any. There won't ever be one.