i zoomed around europe. i drank wine in beautiful places and puzzled over strange modern art i didn’t understand and glutted myself on castles and castles and more and more castles. and then, for reasons unknowable, i jumped on a plane and went to west africa. in senegal there are goats munching grass in the road next to clothing boutiques and people are so kind about me speaking idiot-person french and they keep giving me food and food and all the most delicious food. the people i’m with seem really cool and our director is from kinshasa (it’s the second largest french-speaking city in the world, did you know?). 

the only problem is that instead of andrew being here, he is not here. and this, i realize, is quite the problem. i keep doing this thing where i go to africa and forget to take him with me and i wish i would stop. i am joking but i am not joking. goddamn. there’s nothing even remotely romantic about distance. it’s just full of suck.