June 25.
Clear sky.
It's really hot in Los Angeles. My strawberries have ripened for the second time, and they're especially sweet. I don't know where Frederick got the seeds, but they're much sweeter than the ones I bought last time.
These past few days, he's been attending a business association meeting, and he had promised to return today, but just sent a message saying he’ll delay by another day. The government approval paperwork still hasn’t gone through, and I can feel the pressure on him.
The more time I spend with him, the more I understand how difficult things are for him. In Los Angeles, everyone has a support system, someone in their corner, except for him. He has no one. Just like me, he has nothing.
I've been sleeping a bit better lately, though my appetite is still low,
