I don't know if I'll ever get over this damn period, man. The second half. The last 6 months or so. 2016 will be an year to remember, and somehow get over with.
I mean, I am lucky to be alive. Saying I was lucky seems like a depreciation of what happened. A fucking miracle happened. And I am still here, in person. Really.
In July 2016, I survived the accident of my life. Not just that, I didn't kill my best friends either. We all got away without a scratch. Somehow.
If that was alright, listen to this. I was on the verge of losing the love of my life months later. All due to some really silly handling of situations. I honestly had to give up at certain points of time. I had lost hope and courage that anything good will ever happen with me. That is how bad it was, and it turned out not to be the worst thing ever either. I mean, this could have been the worst thing ever. Rather, I am somewhat better placed now, considering everything.
Better placed is the term I guess. Mainly because of experience. Exposure to really tough shit. To confess, I have only myself to blame for these things. That, however, doesn't take anything away from the shittiness.
Many other important things happened. I made big roadways in my life personally and professionally. I even had the time to worry that there was an outside chance that Brexit and Donald Trump would happen. Outside chance. But those are all peripheral. Not a matter in the end.
One thing that indeed matters is that we watched Steven Wilson, Live. In person and in all the glory of the Raven.
Well, apart from that. What matters, what I will remember for as long as I live and what I will probably never get over is that I almost lost both of them. My life, and the love of my life. Almost.
