Noticed how I’ve stopped writing about Russia?

‘Cause, there is nothing to write about. It’s now like an empty space. Or maybe that’s how it is when close people die, whether they are good characters or toxic jerks. There is a spurt of emotions at first. Memories, emotions, musings. Then it all fades. Gets buried.

Granted, we left Russia almost ten years ago and never went back. It’d been fading for a long time. But then its presence would be felt, every now and then. On and off. We enjoyed watching the Sochi Olympics a few months after we left. Then soon after that, there was a very different type of news — the annexation of Crimea.

Then everyone got used to it — the sanctions and how Russia had started cementing its pariah state reputation.

But then there were some brighter moments. The World Cup — yet another sporting event. So many relatives and friends expressed their joy at seeing Russia so blissful, so colorful, so welcoming and so at the center of the world in the summer of 2018.

But, honestly, I never ever missed the country. I never experienced any nostalgia, though I used to love Moscow, my home city. I never wished I was in Moscow for the World Cup.

I remember driving to Russia’s embassy in San Francisco in February 2015. I had to take care of some legal documents. Boris Nemtsov was assassinated the previous day. Nemtsov was one of the moment prominent politicians of the Yeltsin era. He was also one of Putin’s boldest critics. I was absolutely shocked by the…