It’s the night before I leave Galway, and I’ve made a very silly decision: I’m going to take my boyfriend’s sweatshirt in my backpack. Even though it swims on me, and takes up a third of the room in my bag. Even though I’m already bringing a wool sweater with me, and a scarf, and so on. Even though I’m supposed to be keeping my luggage simple. But I can’t help it; I’m a big sap and I want it.