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The last days race past. There is no keeping up. She dons a white veil and a silly smile; the park is all sunshine and peak summer. We prance around with secrets and surprises, and the night ends no later than could be expected from a group of middle aged women with children who'll wake them in the morning. I say I have to pack. Stockholm is still light when we get into the taxi. I don't quite know what I'll be without it.

My body prepares for flight, for the other. My tongue rearranges itself in my mouth, I feel the muscles around my spine tense and perk up. Now is the time to put these jagged pieces together. What did you learn? Who will you be?

Same, same.

But different.