“Long distance is hard.” -Everyone It was years ago the first time it happened. He lived in New York. Brooklyn, to be exact. I was living in San Francisco. Where we met: the Caesars Palace pool. He was tall, (deviously) charming, and had just gotten his Masters at Stanford. I was impressed but so what? Why would anyone get involved with someone who lived in a different city, especially one on the other side of the country? I mean, seriously. Maybe it was the dizzying Vegas sun or the
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