Forever, but who’s counting?
Someone at the widow board asked me today how long my "SO" and I had been together. This was on the heels of my reading a thread regarding what you call your new love when introducing him/her to others. Obviously, that situation doesn’t apply to me, but A was always my "sweetheart" or "sweetie," as well as "my love" and "my dear" to him directly. "Significant other" always sounded to me about as romantic as "intercourse," and I only ever use the term sarcastically. The discussion reminded me of the meeting I had 2 months after A’s passing with his family and friends. I was introduced, for the first and only time, as A’s "girlfriend." After he was gone. It startled me when she said it; it was too late. But all the same, I appreciated the acknowledgement by someone. It was really the only one I’d ever get.
I wonder if they think of me as often as I think of them, or at all. I would guess not, but I’ll never know.
Anyway, I used one of those date-to-date calculators to figure out how long we’d been together. It was slightly short of what I thought. From the time we "met" online until he died was 2 years, 1 month, and 20 days. I had thought 2 years, 2 months.
Last week I passed the break-even date, though I didn’t realize it until today. I knew it was coming this month, but I didn’t try too hard to figure it out, because I didn’t need it looming. That was wise on my part, because today I figured out that it’s been 2 years, 1 month, and 28 days since he died, and I have to say, it feels like a punch in the gut. It’s like in passing that threshold; the clock on the "rest of my life" has started ticking. He has now been gone longer than I had him.
At the same time, I have not lived, nor will I ever live, a single day since I met him that is not touched by him in a hundred ways: some memories, some new messages that let me know he’s still watching out for me, some in just the quiet ache in my heart that never stops missing him for even a moment.
I’d like to believe that he and I have loved each other in some capacity or another for eternity, and that we will continue to do so. Maybe we were friends in one lifetime, mother and child in another, and sisters in yet another. He and I always felt like we’d known each other forever; maybe it’s because we have.