Today, I am supposed to be in Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam. My flight was scheduled just before midnight yesterday. The boy and I planned on traveling together up to Siem Reap, Cambodia. I have been looking forward to it for a long time, but here I am, flightless, in many ways.

The boy put it casually cruel, saying, “I do not feel like leaving,” a couple of days after I returned from Bangkok. I said sure, it is fine. I am a fucking liar. I never brought the trip up again and just took a domestic beach holiday the very next day after his rejection. I am still here, on the second week now.

I contemplated going solo to Ho Chi Minh, but I did not have the heart for it. My baggage seems too heavy to lug around in a foreign country. Funny how the butterflies in…

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