Oh my god, I am in the throes of a nostalgia-induced breakdown. I am labeling it as such so as to not have to be honest about it being a nervous breakdown. Ok, fine, it’s a nervous breakdown. It’s one that is rooted in a sense of serious nostalgia – nostalgia for, but not limited to, the following things : the way Felix used to have to hold his hair back to be able to see, Selma’s full set of teeth, Jonas’ still being fully planted on the kid side of growing up, the long days, the sense of possibility that comes with the month of June, the sense of possibility that comes with knowing that you’re a mere one year into the magical adventure that is your limited stay in NYC, nostalgia about the sense of hopefulness that was yet to be dashed by the election, nostalgia about my tan (is that wrong?), and nostalgia about this unforgettable week in Sweden. Discovering that paradise was right under our noses was so good for my soul. I must try to remember this.
Yes, Jamal, you took that last photo. Thanks. (I think)