Days like today are my personal proof of reality. I can measure days by the placement of my books, can measure months by the diminishing 25 toothpick pack, can measure years by the number of July Fifteenths that have passed since you had. Reality only exists to me if I can count it, quantify it, put it in my pocket, and look at it later. Since you left I have graduated twice. I have left the country four times. I ran 13.1 miles. I have made one friend that will be in my life forever. I have had ten birthdays (that's 185 candles), been in two bike accidents. In three years, I will have lived half of my life without you. I have gone zero days without thinking about you.