289

Another month together, my love. We swelter in the July heat as we continue through the summer, you working and me looking for someplace to land still. A couple things might shake out, but I'm still grateful to have enough breathing space to apply and not get discouraged when I get ghosted or come in second place in the final interview. It's been a tough job market, but it'll work out. I'm getting career assistance now and I feel like it's a good way forward. Thank you for believing in me and your patience. Happy monthly anniversary. 

 288

Happy anniversary, my love. Twenty-four years. One condo, two domestic apartments, five overseas apartments. Thousands of miles travelled together. Thousands of meals eaten together. Countless struggles shared and victories embraced. I love you. I hope you have enjoyed this journey so far. 

 287

Happy monthly anniversary, my love. We’ve been home, in our new home, for a month. The moving boxes are fewer. Pictures and other memories are going on walls. The haze of Europe is fading. We’ve always lived here, among the trees in our humble home outside of Seattle. We have put the traveling circus of Europe behind us and have chosen to breathe and rest among coffee, rain, friends, and much more. It is peaceful for now, and I hope you are happy amid the familiar green.

 286

Happy monthly anniversary, my love. Now in the multi-clouded climes of Seattle again. We have left our European adventure behind to return to familiar ground. Both of us with new jobs, a new home, and hopefully newer, fresher selves, devoid of the limits and struggles we had with the languages, the cultural clashes, and the employment blockages for you working abroad. Now we are spinning up a new permanent home, a new car (which is unfortunately necessary), and getting back to the ambient, low-dose chaos and anxiety that is America. At least we have each other and relative calm of Seattle around us. 

 285

To my wife. Happy monthly anniversary in Berlin, where the depressive shroud that is winter slowly gives way to spring. Where the local park has planted flowers budding white, yellow, and purple. Where the snow has stopped and the sun is lasting minutes longer per day. Where families and dogs are appearing in the memorial grounds to lounge in the greening grass. The city is coming back to life, seasons are moving forward in that hopeful, energetic way where anything seems possible and you can rebound from any setback. I hope this is true. I hope the job lands with confirmation so we can break out of this holding pattern. We can move on. I will no longer be the spouse in the desert.