85 days ago I still thought that you loved me. So says the notes in my phone. What a fool I was to think you could give enough of yourself away to add up to something of consequence. And now I am sitting in an Irish pub in Luxor, Egypt with you perpetually pacing my mind. I saw the pyramids of Giza, and remembered how you told me you wanted your photo there. I am seeing the world the way you wanted to come along, and we’re not speaking now but I’ll still bring you back some alabaster just to show you that I care even though you’re very upset with me over something I didn’t do…

I wonder if you think of me too. You keep me up at night. I see the sun set west over the Nile river towards Baltimore and I won’t let you know this ever, but I wish it would carry me to your doorstep. Pathetic, and without any idea of what I’ll say when you see me.

I should probably figure that out… I’m slightly tipsy at this point. But I’ll keep on drinking. Because the train right back to Cairo is cold and unpleasant; if I don’t sleep I’ll eventually think of you. So I’m going to have another beer. Egyptian Stella