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Girls change colours, by Agnes Cecicle

                                     Girls change colours, by Agnes Cecile

I wonder when I will stop measuring my life in Time Since and Time Until. Does it ever stop?

It’s funny, on quiet mornings I find myself sifting through these dates, these collection of times where the clock stopped and it becomes marked forever in my mind as “the time when…”

These moments are it, you know? These are the moments when everything changes. Sometimes you’re aware of the meaning even as it’s happening, other times you can only begin to grasp the significance in retrospect.

A few weeks ago it would have been my sixth wedding anniversary. Nine months ago my marriage fell apart. I return to this every so often, the number of months since, because it is necessary. I am still so in it.  My divorce isn’t final, working out the details of everything is profoundly stressful and sometimes it seem like it will never end. So I have to do this, to count and revisit and remind myself of where I was then, and how far I have come to be here.

It’s no small thing- it’s like months sober. Months free. The numbers mean something, you know?

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