Everywhere I turned there were reminders of Holden. Something as simple as passing by a pub and catching a glimpse of a man sipping his beer made me think of him. It’s quite infuriating, though I can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking of me as well. In my mind, I want him to forget about me, but in my heart I like to think I’m lingering in his thoughts. Our kisses, the way our bodies touched, or more than the physical, the way we connected. My original itinerary for the entire trip has changed. The idea of visiting the stomping grounds of famous authors has lost its appeal. Perhaps because that, too, somehow led my thoughts back to Holden. Now I’m only trying to survive. I’m thirteen weeks pregnant, alone, and I have no plan. Rather than thinking about my next step, I can’t get Holden out of my mind. In choosing my next adventure, I decided to go to a place I always wanted to visit. Greece. It’s the birthplace of democracy and the Olympics, but for me, there is something else drawing me to this place.
