Yesterday was my 3 month anniversary.

3 months ago yesterday, 

I chose love again. 

3 months ago yesterday,

I let love in. 

3 months ago yesterday,

I faced the terror

that I could very well 

lose this person that I love

all over again,

and I decided

that loving him was worth 

that pain. 

3 months ago 

yesterday,

I began my next 

great love story.

Now you might think that its sort of silly to be celebrating a new relationship at such an early stage of it. Its only been 3 months. Why would I acknowledge this as a milestone of some kind? 

I will tell you why. 

And it’s a very good reason. 

 

Because 6 years and 2 months and 2 days ago,

I lost the life I knew to death. 

6 years and 2 months and 2 days ago,

my husband went from being alive

to being forever dead. 

6 years and  2 months and 2 days ago,

I began counting death. 

 

Counting. 

One week since he died. 

Three weeks since he died. 

One month since my life was torn apart.

Four months since I have held him. 

11 months and one week since we lay in bed laughing,

at some silly thing. 

One year.

Surely things will get better now. 

One year has passed since death attacked. 

 

But no.

Two years. 

Three. 

Four. 

Every year. Every month.

Counting.

Always counting the days

the minutes

the weeks

the lifetimes ago,

that it had been,

since Death stole our life. 

 

Six years. 

New love. 

Beautiful, scary new love. 

Love walked in,

and I held open

the door. 

Love walked in,

and I said:

“Welcome. 

What the hell

took you so long?” 

 

So yes. 

I am going to celebrate

and acknowledge

and breathe in

3 months of new 

and beautiful

Love. 

 

For years, 

I only counted death. 

And now,

I am counting

LIFE. 

3 months

and one day. 

Since I said “come on in”

to Life. 

 

Love is Here,

and Im counting 

All of it. 

Every second.