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“Marie was sitting in one of the many balconies in which she had access to in Paris. She was observing the city completely alone and in silence. In fact, she was so alone and in such silence, that she was feeling as if she were the last person on earth. She was thinking about Eric, almost in a fatherly way, remembering a lot of things that he had said that was quite good advice to her. She had been thinking about him quite frequently since he had left: It had been months and months but no sign of him. No news whatsoever… and she was actually afraid of receiving any. She had no idea how she would have reacted.
Eric had said that her position was understandable to him, but that Paris was indeed the city of lights. Of course she had a completely different view: Paris can bring you down to your knees and make you hate it, especially when it comes to someone like her, born and raised there, with so many responsibilities and expectations to meet. Paris, too, can make you feel suffocated.
At some point during those few days that they had spent together, Eric had told her he had been in the same position as her, a few years ago, until he decided to do something about it. He had wanted to get rid of everything he hated so badly: It’s a first step to this surreal road that is called life: Chase the life you really want to live.
Something as fighting for your destiny:
Destiny doesn’t reveal itself for us until we are ready. And that’s entirely up to us.
It was funny, maybe even ironic, but Eric, in his own way, inspired faith in people around him in an undeniable and weird way: It was probably the fact that he represented the way of life that every young lad secretly wants to live… Got it? Showing someone that his dream is possible, that there’s someone actually living it, can prove that it doesn’t matter how weird the dream can be, it’s doable. To see someone that made his dreams come true or by making your own dream come true, releases us from fear. That’s what Eric represented: he represented the weird punk kid that made it. For good or bad, our whole society is based on this feeling.
It’s ironic too, the fact that some people – it doesn’t matter how hard they try – can’t hide the fact they have a good heart. Eric was one of them. It didn’t matter how hard Eric would try, anyone who would spend time talking to him would just know that he had a good heart. Marie’s modesty and at the same time pride wouldn’t allow her to admit the same.
Although he had tried his best in the past few years not to show anyone he cared. But something had happened at the party, that night, by that pool. During those few minutes that they had been talking to each other, by the pool, something magical had happened. He had talked, she had talked, they had connected somehow, they had truly connected. They were themselves away from everything else, away from the pressure of being who they were, away from the expectations. They were only Eric and Marie and nothing else mattered.The rest of their time together had been just an extension of that.
Those were the kind of thoughts she had during that night, being the loneliest person in the world. She was just too tired of being alone. After suffering insomnia for only one night, she couldn’t help but feel bad for Eric, who apparently would suffer that quite often. When the day finally broke dawn, she had made some decisions, after all, her life couldn’t just stay the way it was at the moment. Without knowing it, some things were coming to meet her, and they were coming at full speed. Without being sure of anything she had thought during that night, she went back to her life.
There’s always a certain quietude before a storm. And that quietude was about to be over. ”
So now let me tell you a story.
