Last Saturday I woke up with a dream of her coming to my city, me calling her up, being really excited and very happy. I wrote her a letter about it, the first in half a year. Maybe she will be happy reading it. That’s all I wish for.

It feels like a dream that I ever had my hand around her.  I have to pinch myself to believe it. It feels unreal, as if it could never happen. On Sunday I was chatting to a friend about what we would do if we had a time machine so we could visit the past for a day. I thought about going back to the Greeks in Athens or seeing Rome, visiting Cairo with the Pyramids being built… and then it occurred to me that I would rather just go back to when she was here and see her again, maybe even hug her or give her a goodbye kiss. So I became speechless in the discussion, as I floated away in the thought.

Today I think I broke my left elbow. It’s hard to type with one hand. I miss her so… I didn’t say that in the letter — maybe I should have.