I’ll remember salsa dancing in Zurich with my best friend, twisting and turning among locals and expats. I’ll remember the adorable Italian girl in the bottom bunk in Copenhagen who spoke a few words of English and used “spatula” for “hairbrush.” I’ll remember finding seedless watermelon in Novi Sad, a holy grail after months of…
When your ex-boyfriend gets a new house, a new car, and a new phone, you’ll find yourself trying to count the things that haven’t changed—his incredible memory, his playfulness, his eyebrow raise, his gentle hands, and his voice—and end up holding out one hand and one fist. When he shuffles you out the door before 11…
Technically my neighbor’s house, but it reminds me of home.
Victim to Charm 