>7 years without a wallet.
17 years without a watch.
8 years without a base.
8 years on the road.
18 years since I combed my hair.
12 years since I started travelling outside of the family. Since my restlessness overcame me.
8 years since graduation.
12 years since going to Sheffield University.
7 years since the hedonistic World Cup and since seeing the only girls I have ever loved. and both are now mothers to one boy each.
4 years since the last Lions tour meaning it’s 4 years since I met Scotty and Sarah. Phenomenal what has happened in that time.
3 years since I’ve seen James.
A mere 10 months since Ubud and the funerals of Sulawesi.
Linden and I spent the longest 4 days of our lives in Poland recently. We really couldn’t comprehend it had only been 4 days.
The numbers begin to stack up after a while. Building into my 31 years of life, a time period I couldn’t never have understood if I hadn’t lived it. I neglected to mention a time before 18 years ago. Not for malicious reasons. I just feel they were formalised years, times when I had no control over my destiny. A time when I wasn’t free to choose or opt in or out.
What I find odd is I don’t see an end to my numbers. Time hasn’t flown by. It’s experiences have filled many an evening, many a nostalgic get-together. I see no co-incidences here. Life is far too complex and strung-out across such broad fronts for parochial mentality to come into play.