THIS arrived today, like a window into an alternate universe. His beautiful handwriting dancing to the rythym of his pleasure. Descriptors like "turbo-charged", "phenomenal", "vitality", "blast", "grand show" (and the use of 2 exclamation points) displayed a spirited gratitude. I am blissfully happy for him, but jealousy and anguish peer through the window. Now insecurity has me competing with exotic locales for his affections. Also, the picture on the postcard fills ME with the wanderlust and a fervent desire to be engulfed by a foreign environment, to expand MY sense of humanity. I wanna connect to that which is bigger than me! I wanna roam a vast expanse instead of pacing the two square inches of my current head space. It was my greatest hope and desire that he'd have exactly the kind of experience he related. But the anguish over not being able to sit across from him and watch his pupils dilate as he narrates the story, and feel the energy flying off his gesticulations, and having his silvery voice glide all over my skin...