There is no set date, there is no set juncture of salience. It's not a date marked on a calendar, underlined and highlighted tenfold, it's not a date that you recollect. It's when something clicks within you, and it snaps into place. Years and years pass, and life is jigsaw confoundation. It's as if you're piecing together a scene that has been sluiced, a milieu that has been washed out. It's not a set date. You cannot prep for it, you cannot set a timer, you cannot cram. It is.