I was rifling through some old files recently, falling into a rabbit hole of bad web design and a whole lot of writing notes for stories long forgotten, and I found a blog post. I have no idea if it was ever actually posted. It would have been on my Live Journal, but I’m too lazy (and frankly, too avoiding-bad-memories) to go through and look for it.
It’s nothing terribly ground breaking. It’s just a lengthy ramble about being with Bob, moving in together, and how unfathomable it was that everything was falling into place so easily and so fast. I had just [recently] moved in and I had yet to get fired from the Toxic Shit Hole. It’s a lot of waxing on about how awesome he is and how much I love him and how happy he makes me and…pretty much everything I still wax on about now.
But what caught my attention was the end of the post…
I did some math the other day…I’m nuts, I know…
Since the day we met, we have spent every single weekend together.
From November 18, 2007 to February 1, 2008 is 76 days.
Of those 76 days, we have spent 57 days together. (including the days when it was only a few hours coming or going)
That makes 19 days apart. And those all involved lengthy phone conversations.
This is how we’ve grown so close so fast. This is why nothing feels rushed.
I made my “official” move in with him on our 2 month anniversary. (Give or take a day or two.) From the day I moved in we have spent exactly one night apart.
It’s been seven years.
According to an internet calculator that’s 2,558 days since our first date.
2,497 days of living together.
1,887 days of marriage.
And we’re still the same clingy koala bears we were on day one.
Who knew?
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Dareh Meyod O.A.R. |