I had an epiphany today.

I think.

I’m ambivalent to know that my time is coming to a close. I miss my friends & family, but I love it here.

I came here in June for so many reasons. I came because living here was something I’ve always wanted to do. I came to learn French, to get to know my family. I came to give myself a rest and a graduation gift.

Turns out, as with most things in life, there were other psychological reasons I didn’t realize at the time and have only since discovered in hindsight: I came to escape the crazy life I was living; to run away from an environment and people who depressed me or brought uncontrollable anxiety. I came to rediscover myself, find the girl I lost last year. But I really came to see if I could do it. I wanted to know if I could move so far from home, to a foreign land where I hardly knew the language, and make a life for myself: get a job, make new friends, settle down, live life where there wasn’t anybody to help, where I couldn’t run home to Mummy and Daddy if I wanted to. I wanted to know if I could be happy and responsible on my own, somewhere new.

I did it.


And just now do I realize I have to leave, go back to my real home, for two reasons:

1.) I’ve accomplished my mission.
When I made it clear to Marie that I wanted my last day of work to be this following Friday, she was upset. “C’est dommage,” she sighed, surprised I was leaving so early. “You could have worked here until at least the end of October, and probably November.” And I’m sure she’d have me back during the busy times in December and January. I have a job. I can pay off my bills.

After getting on so well with all of my family this summer, they have further encouraged me to pursue my dreams to its completion. I could stay here in this house until I found a place of my own if I wanted, which would be easy to do in the winter. I even have befriended a woman who rents out an apartment herself. I have options for a place to stay.

That’s the other thing: I’ve found my place. I’ve made friends, found a niche. I adore the other secretaries at work; I’m sure, given time, we could be close – we’ve hitten it off so well already. I have a dog and a bank account. I had a scooter (past tense only because I opted to sell it knowing I’d soon be leaving… and how I miss it!). I know people at all my favorite restaurants and shops. I’ve successfully made a life here and have set it up so that I could make it permanent. I could live here with ease.

But do I really want to be a secretary for the rest of my life? In my romantic vision of the future, I’m a secretary or bartender or waitress part-time… and the rest of the time I spend writing books as an author. But how realistic is that? And who would intellectually stimulate me with discussions of Presidents and Vonnegut and Sartre? Who would I end up marrying? A fisherman? It would be a beautiful life to live like the locals, where good friends, food & wine are the most important things in the world. But both my biggest forte and fault is my ambition; would I be content to live this simple life?

2.) I must go to keep Camarat sacred.
This place is my paradise. It’s my version of heaven on Earth, my escape from reality. If I stayed here, if I really made it home, I’d lose that. Reality would creep in and this place would lose some – certainly not all, or even most – of its wonder. To preserve my undying love for Camarat, I need to leave so that some day I can come back again.


So that’s it. I’m ready to pack, move back to the States, get a “real job”…I guess. I can always come back. I’m young. It’s time to explore another part of this world, discover what’s next… I think.

Or at least I’ve justified the return to the States to make myself feel better about giving up, packing in, running home to Mummy and Daddy – who, being the loving people they are, will welcome me back with open arms.

I haven’t decided which way it is yet. But I do know I’ve got the plane ticket to Boston for me and my dog… even if I still harbor the romantic fantasy of saying, “Who cares!” and missing my flight and making this home, living here forever. It’s too bad I can’t make up my mind.

I saw this quote in my best friend’s AIM profile (she always has the best quotes – wow, how I miss her…) and I suppose it is what I must ponder tonight:

“If you want to know where your heart is, look where you mind goes when it wanders.”