The 31st Day

My mind is in turmoil. I cannot sleep.

Today marks the 31st day since I left France and I wonder just how much longer I have to keep counting until I can go back.

If I can go back.

Every day, I think about the life I left behind. I relished in my satisfying job. I walked the safe streets of my neighborhood. I admired the tranquil lilting notes the morning ambassadors honored. I cherished every moment of my life. I forcefully abandoned the city where I truly felt happiness, the city where I felt myself come alive.

In leaving France, I fear that I have lost that peace. I simply must return. If not, I will go mad.

What will become of my life should my education prove insufficient in helping me achieve my goals? Have I taken the right path? Did I choose the correct answer?

The places that I visited will become distant memories. My friendships, the links of humanity, will erode as they are made brittle by oblivion and time.

And I think about him. Constantly. Endlessly. He who conquered my heart: will he become a mere memory that gently makes my lips smile when I remember what we once had? When that happens, where will I be? Where will he be?

Some things in life surpass my own finite understanding. I never know the reason why certain events had to happen until time passes.

But why must I wait? What is going on?

Barb the French Bean