It’s the first day we haven’t talked, some­thing nei­ther of us expected until some time next month. I think an ounce of Jäger will serve as com­pany instead, and maybe a diges­tif for the healthy salmon (who must have swam 100000km before being caught) that was thanked for din­ner. It burns the stom­ach and the throat, but doesn’t keep me warm.

Sometimes, she teases by call­ing me Jealous Jeffrey. It’s likely she’s gone to bed cause she has to get up early tomor­row, fallen asleep after a pil­sner she grabbed from work. But the mind wan­ders, and I think of her at a Sigma Nu party, being hit on by some frat boy with a popped col­lar and a striped wrist­band around his forearm.

I never worry though, not cause I know she’s mine, but because she does.