It’s been three days since Mason left for Europe, almost a week since our fight, ultimately a week of silence. A silence that wasn’t so hard to handle when he was here where I could hunt him down and force him to talk to me if I really wanted. In the three days since he left it’s been more difficult to handle.
I can only assume he made it safe to Europe figuring someone would have made me aware had he not. If not the press sure would have. I’ve had this uncomfortable itch under my skin begging me to call him, see what he’s doing. How he’s doing?
Is he meeting with dangerous people? What answers can he find in Europe that he can’t find here? The need for answers is burning a hole in my stomach.
I’ve kept myself as busy as I could over the weekend. Saturday, I went to the soup kitchen a
