Two years.

What a difference two years make.

Two years ago, tonight, I went out for dinner and a movie and came home absolutely and completely crushed. My life had turned upside down in a span of a few minutes and I had no idea where to go, what to do next.

What a difference two years make.

Two years ago, tonight, I stayed up the whole night in tears, gasping for breath, barely able to think straight, trying to figure out what this all meant and how I’d be able to make it through the next day, much less after that.

What a difference two years make.

This morning, I left a wonderful house — a house in a neighborhood I adore, a house that I share with the woman I love — and walked to work at a job I enjoy and find completely and wholeheartedly fulfilling. This morning, I was reminded, as I am every morning these days, that I am surrounded by people whom I love and who love me, and that I live a life full of happiness and excitement and adventure and impact.

What a difference two years make.

Prior to two years ago, I used to think it was a cliché when people used to say: “you need to hit rock bottom in order to bounce back up.” Now, I know that it’s true.

When you’re coasting, when you’ve settled into a life that is easy but doesn’t let you live to your full potential, life sometimes gives you a kick in the ass to remind you that you can be, that you are, so much more.

What a difference two years make.