Something’s triggered in me today that hasn’t happened since I’ve been back in Scotland; I finally feel the reality of no longer living in France.
Before today, it never truly sunk in that I was no longer in France. I’ve been so busy since the day I moved back to Scotland that I haven’t had the focus to sit and think about it. Two things have happened today that have cut a vast hole in my heart as it aches for France and Aix-en-Provence.
I miss the wonder of a new place.
I miss hearing French all around me.
I miss the amazement when I understood the things going on around me in a foreign language.
I miss wearing dresses and sunglasses in the sultry warmth of mid-afternoon Aix.
I miss walking around the marché and picking up my vegetables for the day.
I miss going to Place des Cardeurs for a drink in the pleasant evening sun.
I miss the gastronomique French food.
I miss sitting in Parc de Jourdan and reading a book.
I miss the calm bustle of Aix during the week.
I miss the extravagant lights all around town in winter.
There’s a boundless manque in my heart today that makes me want to cry. I felt so connected to France whilst I was there, yet since I’ve been back, my memories have been clouded by the rough times I had.
I don’t know if it was worse to only remember the rough parts or to remember the incredible feeling of being in France.
Today’s a sad day.