Early this afternoon when he and I were talking I said, "It was a year ago today that you painted my bathroom." And then we started reminiscing about the rest of that weekend. We went to Moncton, had a beautiful suite, went out to dinner, watched the most boring movie that night (I slept through most of it, snuggled up in his arms)... I remember so many details from that trip. It's like it was just yesterday. It was such a nice weekend, and it was so hard for me to understand how he could just end things a few days later. I understand now.
It's strange to think that a year ago today, I felt loved. Today I cry because I am not. On the bright side, at least I'm not crying anymore that I'm not with him. ...I always need to keep looking for that bright side, right?