In the darkest moments of the night, I woke to the spring storm with a start. Woken by the dream with a man I never thought I would, then unable to return to sleep at the realization of another that never could. I checked my timeline to what I already knew was true. These past months my body has been solemnly marking its milestones of a year ago. It remembers the crowd swirling the French academy foyer on that last rainy day in Paris, it remembers the snow-capped mountains surrounding a cabin in Norway. Whenever I’m worked up I just have to look back on the calendar, as I remember the when, my body remembers the who and the how.