“Honey, don’t you wanna eat something? You’ve been in your bedroom since this morning. What’s wrong this time? Last day it was about the hot weather and mosquitoes. What now?”
What? Yeah, I'm gonna say what’s the problem.
- “My problem? You really wanna know? My problem is you, yeah you and this fucking island! I was happy there, now I’m just going depressive. You moved here, I begged you not to, but of course you didn’t listen, as usual. So yeah, that’s my problem. I’m sick, but that doesn’t seem to bother you. If we don’t go back to France I’m just swearing that I’ll not survive. They’re my friends! Can you feel emotions, do you only have a heart? An icy heart, yeah, that’s it.”
- “Alex, control your language! Fucking island? What the hell is this? And what is this stupid I’m not gonna survive! I don’t want ideas like this in your head, ok? How do you dare say that we don’t care? Of course we do! We love you so much, but we had interesting jobs here, and the Reunion is beautiful. It’s France.”
- “So now interesting jobs are more important than your daughter? Surely then I have bad ideas in my head. Seeing that money is more important. If you did really love me, we shouldn’t have come here. I just wanna get away from this place, that’s all. Please, 2 years is enough. We’ve seen all the island, aren’t you fed up going thousands of times to the same beaches, seeing the same things?”
- “… I know, we didn’t picture staying here all our lives, 3 years seemed good. We’ll think about it, we started looking in Brittany for a house.”
- “Seriously? And why didn’t you tell me or Adam?”
- “It’s just looking, we’re haven’t done anything yet, and you would have been so excited and unbearable”
- “… I’m excited now. But I’m just so angry, you’d better go out before I say horrible things.”
- “Ok, but come eat something at least in less than an hour.”
Anger and happiness. Two opposite things.
I can’t help checking my mail every hour. I just want him to answer. Maybe he doesn't respond ‘cause of my illness. Or maybe he just forgot me. No, he couldn’t do this. Never. He probably changed his email address, or had a problem. Yeah, that would be logical.
1 mail. My heart beats even faster.
Chris. Saying “lots of love” again and again. I can’t even read his mails, and responding is just awful. I’m sick, I’m getting love from another person and this is heartbreaking. I close the digital tablet. I wanna throw up. I wanna cry. I wanna give up. We’re in February, I’ll never hold until summer.