two weeks getting ready for my trip.  Darren sent one letter.  It was hand written in small, concise, letters.  It offered a curt apology and reiterated the offer to take me to the airport –a 6 hour round trip for him.

I wrote him back cordially declining. Ending the letter with “maybe I’ll see you next year.”  At that point I was happy with my false anger, sure I’d have a great adventure and we be back together come fall.

And then it was on to Europe where I got to speak in French and wander streets unlike anything in my home town and buy beer from vending machines and watch life from outside of windows, never being asked inside.  There was also kissing: Dutch Jeremy’s tongue down my throat, and Norwegian Bjorn pushing me for sex on at...

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