The most attractive photographs you will ever find of Caitlin and I anywhere.

This day at Pont du Gard in southern France was extremely memorable to me. Those sandwiches were ham and butter, and there must have been about ten pats of butter on each of ours. Maybe half a stick worth. The ham was very good. The bread ripped the roof of my mouth and my gums, but god it was good, too. We sat about eating, watching families and groups of students, people in canoes. We talked a good deal about marriage and children. We took obscene amounts of pictures. Caitlin’s film ripped. The bus back to Avignon took forever, so we sat on the side of the road for an hour or so, talking about things we dreamt of doing with our lives.

My life feels so different now. I want even less now. I expect even less now. If all I ever did consisted of traveling with that woman, I’d be content. With the arguments, the snappy attitudes, the tears, the content silence, the thing about her is that she feels just as good to me as being alone. She does nothing to intrude upon happy solitude, she complements it perfectly. Makes it feel good. And I love taking her picture, among flowers, among buildings, cityscapes and mountains.