The hallway was long and fluorescent lit, and empty aside from the two of us, charging wide-eyed towards our respective adventures. Shoes squeaking on the flooring, I stopped abruptly, turned to her, and made a proclamation without thinking too hard about it: “Alright, you go to Scotland. I’ll go to Nepal. Then, when we get back next spring, we are going to be real friends.” Megan laughed and cocked one eyebrow with a mix of curiosity and skepticism in her eyes at my bold prophecy.

It felt quite late when I landed in Thailand. I had been on a flight for two days, if you include the time travel. Bangkok was waking up for its evening shift when I left the airport. As we drove to the hotel, the sky was dark, the streets lined with vendors selling everything from the usual t-shirts to tourist souvenirs to household objects like batteries and pots and pans! The excitement was beyond real… Thailand was on my bucket list for so long. I was ready for anything.

I have always been a girly-girl with a preference for feminine fashion. I loved creating fun, flirty looks for ordinary days. I loved heels for everyday wear (yes, even while working in the vineyard), and I loved wearing sexy outfits that showed off my boobs. My breasts were gorgeous, almost perfect – the kind that had a natural, yet full, teardrop shape with perky nipples. Until cancer happened. Twice.