Once upon a time, about 2 years ago, I was living in Southeast Asia. I still remember the first moment when I needed to cross a 6-lane highway on foot.

Time is oh so strange. And its strangeness always seems to hit me out of the blue.

It is the middle of June. We lazily hop off the train and stroll hand in hand through the station.

There was a time, not too long ago, when I saw myself as a free spirit. And every so often, the people in my life would voice their agreement.

Every moment spent in Milan felt like that. Like freedom. I had not a care in the world, and I was wholly captivated.