Ten months,

I am neither disappointed nor enraged, neither excited nor proud. The significance of these so-called monthversaries are less existent as they have been in the previous stages of our relationship. Perhaps this love cannot be measured by time. At least, what most people call time, with their clocks and calenders, months, years, days, minutes, seconds. No, that's not time. Those are limits to time, holding us back from that first place medal at the track meet, having to reschedule the appointment because it coincides with a prior engagement, making us all robots that function according to limits. Love shouldn't need limits. Love is a puppy running free in a a grassy meadow, where true time is endless.