11 years, 3 months, and 28 days since my last entry.
There's no use enumerating all the changes, legion though they may be.
What has remained the same is the woman sitting next to me on this bed as she writes in her journal.
There is a boy who still has a very elementary sense of wonder.
We still live in the same city.
There are still books, still music, still the relative fact of my youth - such as it is.
None of these things were ever guaranteed.
I'll be 39 in less than a month.
That is not guaranteed.
But I'm still here.
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