I read somewhere that long-distance couples often fight just before one of them is about to leave.  Sort of a self-preservation thing or preference to feeling angry instead of sad.  Vietnam and I were doing that, I thought.  What with all the cockroaches, cheeky geckos, broken house appliances going on I was sure he was trying to pick a fight.  But seems he’s reconsidered his strategy.  Now that our departure date nears Vietnam is pulling out all the stops to make sure I miss him.

As if reminding me of his beauty while hosting guests and traveling around weren’t enough, he’s managed to make the weather cooler than normal.  I love him all the more.  And I’m all the more reminded of how bad I’ve been to him.  I moved here to be with him, but I have not done it gracefully.

I am a bad immigrant.

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