It was four months into being away from New York. We had finally found our new normal. We spent the last two months backpacking through Europe, living our lives like this had been our choice instead of us being forced to go on the run. I had never been happier. It felt like being on an extended honeymoon. There were still fights, but we talked like we used to now. Checked in with each other every day. When we did fight, it was about who took out the trash last and when he was going to load the fucking dishwasher.
When the sightseeing and death defying shit like paragliding and zip lining got old, we joined clubs and took dance classes, where we made friends. We didn't let people in, so they weren't close friendships, but spending time with other people again took some of the pressure of being on the run off.
