A life-time in three months

It will soon be three months ago that I met, who was soon to be, my boyfriend. Three months. How long is three months?

 A third of a pregnancy. 2 terms at school. 2 lots of summer holiday. 48 hair washes. 12 changes of nail vanish. A quater of a year.
Nothing in the scheme of things.

In this, I have lived a life-time.

Not in a bad way. Not in a way that suggests things have been so hideous that time has dragged to extreme proportions. No. Quite the opposite. So much has changed in this time that I can barely remember the life I used to live. In fact it was a talk with him about how we are like best friends, that reminded me of my first post, and resulted in my writing this. It's strange how sometimes, weeks will pass, months will pass, sometimes even years will pass without anything significant happening. Without anything joyous or brilliant or important. Those times will pass without recognition, and in a blink of an eye.

But these three months? They have been the best and worst of my life. They are cemented in my mind as the days that changed my life forever. The days that saw me giddy with euphoria, stupid with anger, scared at things to come, and content at the realisation that everything will be ok.

Yes, Ive lived a life-time in these last three months, but it was a good life.