During our engagement, his adoptive mother asked me why I was committing to a broken man. But that came later. At seventeen, I had only just fallen in love with Donald and was miserable about leaving him behind for a three-week trip to Europe with my mother and sister. I consoled myself by buying postcards in each new town, and writing “I love you” in the local language: “Jeg elsker deg” from Oslo. “Jeg elsker dig” from Copenhagan. “Jeg älskar dig” from Stockholm.
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