The Hardest Part

I know all along I would need to write this entry but I kept putting it off and putting it off and claiming it wasn't the right moment over and over again. But it will never be the right moment, so I figured finally, I would just suck it up and do it.

I left Paris on the 14th.
I left Hervé on the 13th, at dusk. We stood on the train platform, locked in each other's embrace; me trying not to cry and him kissing away the tears that slipped out. I want to see him as soon as possible but we're both broke and although he works he's building his house when he's not away on business and I feel awful having him spend all his time and money to come see me. So hard. If he wasn't absolutely remarkable, I'm not sure I would let myself feel the way I feel about him.
I just don't think I've ever been with someone who made me feel extraordinary when I'm being simply myself. Maybe its part him and part the fact that this whole experience has made me more comfortable in my own skin, but it just feels at ease but nice. Its going to be horridly awful to be so far from each other, but I can't ignore the way this feels. I'm absolutely no good at that, and neither is he, thank god.

Couldn't we just drain the atlantic and build a big highway? Where cars travel at 1000 miles per hour and don't use gas? That would be swell.

I've been home for several days now, well over a week I guess but it doesn't feel that long. I went down to Ashland with my mom and Mara, which was so great. I hardy ever get to see Mara and we got to spend some nice quality time together. I am still jet-lagged so I start getting sleepy at about 10:00 at night, but I managed to make it through most of the shows, sorry if I wasn't excited Mara, I blame fatigue and the general shock of coming home.

So far the only things that stood out in coming back have been anoverwhelming feeling that everyone is staring at me, but I decided maybe this is a residual effect from france, where in general, everyone WAS usually staring at me.
That and everyone is so friendly in shops and restaurants here, I forgot all about that.
I also seem to speak with a bit of a drawl, I don't know why.

I leave for new york thursday morning THANK GOD, things are explosive here. My dad has interviews for a new job, I cross my fingers he finds something that pleases both him and my mom. She has been biting her nails to the bone (metaphorically, she has impecible nails actually). I long so much to be around all my best friends, but I fear so much that there's so mch I can never make them understand and I'll feel like I've alienated myself from them. I realize now I was already feeling alienated when I left, perhaps by my own doing. I just felt muddled and lost track of where I ended and others began, and I hate that feeling. Especially when its non-consentual, it feel so violating. Like someone is poking around in your mind and zapping away every sunconscious inkling that you find comforting. A horribly dangerous feeling for me, because I don't handle imbalance very well.

Hervé leaves for La Rochelle for work, I leave for New York (with my mom in tow, mostly so she can escape the domestic hell that is her life). Many happy reunions lay ahead but part of me is very scared, and I don't know why.

But yes, it is over. My 8 months abroad have changed me more than I could possibly express, so I hope these entries speak for themselves. I may or may not decide to keep this blog, I haven't been able to devote more than 10 seconds of clear thought to it and 12:39, when I'm still jet-lagged, and have just said goodbye to my lover who I won't speak with again for two weeks, is not the time to make an attempt.

a bientot mes adorés,

Deb