I was looking at my window when father told me she was gone.
I decided upon that afternoon that I would mourn her the way the Chinese do, the traditional way. I will not sleep tonight. So, I prepared a cup of coffee and cried afterwards.
And I will go South, the direction my window is facing. I thought. This must be a sign. A calling.
I was alone. Like I always am. I could have called someone, but I didn’t. I couldn’t think of anyone here. I wanted another kind of love. Old love, from my family and real long-time friends.
So, I mourned in silence. Tears were my blankets of comfort. Suffering like this seemed like the right thing to do. Or maybe I’m just a coward and did not want people to see me in despair.
It was 10pm. I was creating a small book and all I could think about was the heavy pain I had in my lower back. I started crying at some point. I felt lonely. I was also thinking how this country doesn’t love me. I am too vulnerable. Too present. Too sensible. Too literal. Too straight. I thought. France doesn’t love me because I am myself. This is the biggest break-up ever.
All the pain I felt it in my lower back. It felt heavy. Like I was carrying everyone else’s sadness. Or maybe it was just mine. And my loneliness.
My vulnerability was heavy. But I embraced it. (Not like the French). Vulnerability was my treasure and secret weapon. But of course, they wouldn’t understand that. They are too proud. Too cold.
I feel puzzled. I don’t know what’s really wrong with me. This country makes me feel like there is something wrong with me.
I feel like a broken flower. Not a rose but a wild one. In the middle of green. All alone, reckless and vulnerable. The sun is shining and I might just burn and disappear. Like my grandmother. She asked to be cremated.
Fire = reborn.
Such a poetic way to go and come-back into this universe.
I remember the day I thought I was going to die. I bled a lot. Also, a poetic way to go… Maybe.
That day I did not think of my past or future. Only my present and how I could survive. I thought of my family and friends.
In 6 days, it will be the anniversary of this event. 2 years ago.
I am a miracle.
Tears entered my ears while I cried on the floor. I was lying down. The ceiling looked pale. Just like my soul today.
