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Free «Forbidden Love» Essay Sample

I was feeling great about myself; I had a bright future ahead of me and nothing was going to stop me from living my life. I had a great childhood and I knew that I was loved and appreciated by my family. We came from a good family and my parents had gone out of their way to ensure that we had the best when growing up. I had attended the best schools around my home town and I never thought I was privileged to do this till much later. My family was a close knit family and we had a lot of fun with each other and had shared numerous holidays together for the longest time. My grandfather was my hero, and in all of my life I had never seen nor heard from anyone of a day that he was cross with anyone. He was a tall man and quite fit for his age; I loved my old man with all of my heart and could not wait to visit him back at his place. Despite of the distance, I called him often just to hear him talk of his last fishing trip and how well grandma’s garden was doing. He always ended his phone calls with an invitation for me to go visit them anytime I wanted. If only I had a car, all my allowance could have ended up at the pump.

My family was originally from The United States and my great grandparents had been farmers who had vast tracts of land where they kept animals and grew wheat. My grandfather was born in The States and from what he told me, he had good memories of his childhood. His father was a wealthy man and as such they had a good upbringing. My grandfather had joined the army and was deployed in Europe where he had met my grandmother. They only went back to The States to visit twice before my great grandparents passed on. From what I have learned over the years, grandpa was very much affected and thus chose to leave home completely to get away from the sad place that brought back all the memories of his parents. My father was born in France as well as all his siblings but my mother’s family is originally from Italy. I and my elder sister have never been to The States, France is our home. We all speak English at home though we all know French and a little of Italian. I have all along desired to travel and had vowed to take up a course in University that would involve a lot of travelling and visiting new places. I am yet to get to that point in my life though. I am taking a break right now from everyone and everything to try and put my life back together since I feel like I have been hit by a tornado and lost my bearings. I have so much pain in my heart and have totally lost my desire for food. Sometimes the nights seem so long and I get up and just sit by the window, with a cold glass of wine and gaze outside till the sun comes up. I still cannot quite pinpoint the beginning of my problems, I don’t even know if this is a problem I have or not. Maybe I should just get back home and visit grandpa, yesterday’s phone call was not enough. I hope he did not feel my pain as we talked, I really should call him back and reassure him that I was fine.

This is the longest time that I have been away from home since I was born. Save for the two weeks that I had spent in sixth grade in the mountain ranges for a hiking expedition. I do not understand how I could have spent twenty five years under the nose of my family. I had the money and all the resources to move around and drive to faraway places but I have always been somewhere with a member of my family close by. I guess I have been relishing in the comfort of ready security. I don’t want to venture outside of my cottage door, I just want to be alone and just this morning I sent the housekeeping staff away. I really don’t need a change of bed sheets and towels; I haven’t even used the pairs that were brought yesterday. I have to take a grip of myself, I keep telling myself this. This is it, I will take a nap after taking a glass or two of the left over wine then I will start my life all over again. There It goes again, the migraine, I really do need to take a break, and eat something. Only after taking good nap, and some wine.

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Julia. That was her name. My family and I had taken Uncle Joe’s yacht and were enjoying our vacation in Monaco. This was a dream come true for my family. We were staying at my uncle’s place and were having the time of our lives enjoying the tastes and sounds of this magical place. We had plans to have our lunch in a fancy hotel as a treat for my mother who was just regaining her strength after going through session after session of chemotherapy. It had been tough for all of us and especially my father who clearly dotted on her and whose life revolved around her. She had been the pillar of strength for the whole family and it had been really hard when we learned that she had breast cancer. My father was retired and my elder sister was just starting work in a new law firm and the news about her illness had hit us all hard. All in all she still found the time to share a joke with us and reassure us that all was going to be fine. It was difficult having to watch her go through the chemotherapy sessions. The morning I walked into her room and found her crying clinging onto locks of her beautiful hair that had started to fall off her head will forever be etched on my mind, it broke me into pieces. That was the first of only two times that I felt my heart break into so many pieces I thought I would never get over it. Where was I, Julia. We had left the yacht and strolled briskly towards the hotel that we were to have our lunch while taking in the beautiful scenery of the docks and all the yachts that were lined along the docks. It was like one big car park, like the one I had seen in the Bond movie I like so much. At the hotel, the hostess slimed at us and led us to the other side of the pool area where we found strategic sitting space in the fancy restaurant. We ordered our meals and sat back waiting expectantly for the calamari and lobsters to arrive. I really was hungry, I had assisted the staff on the yacht to raise and lower the mast numerous times when we were at sea and that kind of drained me. My sister is the delicate kind thus all she does is sit and look pretty for all to admire her. She has been the best sibling ever and I have always admired her determination to achieve whatever she sets her eyes on achieving. She has aced her way through school and was now a big shot lawyer for a reputable firm in Paris.

School had been easy for my sister and I and we had numerous friends. We attended the best private school around and were driven to and from school by our driver Jean. I had learnt from an early age not to bother him as he drove since he always seemed to have issues and was always shouting on the phone or complaining about one thing or the other to someone via the phone. He was however very friendly in between these dramatic episodes and used to take me for soccer practice when my parents could not make it. By the time I hit my teenage years I had grown to value and respect Jean and we had become good friends. He drove me to my first date and was there whenever I needed a male figure to talk to, informally. I recall this one day when he had picked me up from soccer practice and informed me that we would be taking a detour on our way home. He drove us outside the city zone and we ended up in a rather shady area of town. There was rubbish littered all over the place and there were water paddles that were clattered on the sidewalk. He led me to an old shack where we found a woman and two boys sitting sipping tea. . Jean left me with the boys who were just staring at me and went inside with the woman, within the shortest time I heard a familiar conversation, one that I had heard in the car a thousand and one times before. There and then I knew that this was Jean’s family. All along I had never bothered to know where he came from every morning or where he went to sleep at night but now I knew. He later told me that his wife was a housewife and was always on his toes asking for money and complaining about living in that neighborhood. He said he was doing all that he knew how to, driving, and that was all he could afford. I vowed there and then to give him my allowance every week to assist in his problems.  

Our calamari and lobster did arrive and we devoured each one of them amid laughter and small talk amongst ourselves. I remember walking to the men’s room then I blacked out. When I came to, all I heard were ticking noises and I felt numb all over my body, I was not in pain though. I strained my eyes and made out a lean frame of someone in white scribbling something on a clipboard. She ran out and reappeared again in the company of two more people and my sister. My sister was so happy and the doctor kept checking my vitals and asking me how I felt and other questions that I cannot quite recall. That was when I took a good look at her, no, I first read her name on her badge, Julia. I then slipped back to sleep and woke up hours later. My whole family was there this time around and my mother was holding my hand. I later came to learn that I had appendicitis and that was what had caused my collapse, the doctors had taken out the inflamed appendix and I was on the right track back to good health. I was happy to be well and knew that I would be fine in a couple of days since it was not a life threatening issue. As we all let out a sigh of relief, I could not help but look around to see if I could spot her again, nurse Julia. I had a dream that night, a good dream. I was not the kind of person who dreamt at night but I did have a dream that night. I was falling from a cliff or was it a gorge and I felt like I was never going to reach the bottom of the hill only for a big bird to come flying while flapping its expansive wings and whisking me away as it went thus saving me from what seemed like a nasty fall. Just before I got to thank the bird, I woke up with a start to a sharp pain in my arm. Looking down with my sleepy eye I saw her trying to draw some blood from my arm. This time round I did say hi and she looked up from what she was doing and gave me a smile that almost put me back into a coma. I felt my heart skip a bet and I could not even blink, least I lost sight of her again. I wanted the doctor to pass by so I could request to have Julia and her only attend to me.

She did not show up for the next two days. These turned out to be the longest days I spent in that hospital, I eventually decided to take a walk in park just outside the hospital least I went crazy just thinking about her. The only time I had such deep thought s about a lady was in my junior school years. I recall her name was Sara and she sat just a row ahead of me in class. She had long sandy hair and I would stare at her for hours during English class. I was not worried about missing out on the lessons since I was already fluent in English and in any case I really did not care so long as Sara was in sight. She used to have on the cutest dresses and I thought then that she was the loveliest girl in the world. I would let my pencil slip off my fingers and roll forward so I could get a chance to get close to her as I picked my pencil and smell her hair, which was the icing on the cake. I even loved taking my mother and sister shopping to the mall and no one could ever figure it out. This was not because I loved to shop, I only wanted to join them so I can get a good chance to sample the hair shampoos in the mall in the hope of getting the one that my dearest and the most lovely girl in the world used on her hair. I had vowed to get it at all costs and had even set aside the best corner by my bed where I had envisioned placing it strategic enough to smell it just before I slept and immediately I woke up. One day she did not show up in class, and I planned on missing all the classes’ every day for as long as she was absent. I later overheard my mother talk to another woman about the ambassador leaving to work in another country in Africa, and then it hit me that Sara’s father was an ambassador, the ambassador that had left. I cried in my room and l searched twice as hard in the mall for her hair shampoo to no avail. Sooner than I expected, I stopped staring at her empty desk like my eyes would magically bring her back. Eventually what I thought would never happen happened, I forgot how her hair smelt. I tried to look everywhere for something that would remind me of her hair shampoo smell to no avail. It was years later that I got to find that particular shampoo. I had just joined campus and we were preparing a particular paper that we were working on in groups and were supposed to present to the whole class We had met as a group in one of the halls of residence and were waiting for the last member to a arrive when the host came out of the bathroom and there and then I took a whim of that smell I had sought for ages. I felt my heart jump in my chest and I could not help but ask about the shampoo. The guy brushed it off saying that it was something that his girlfriend used to get rid of the itch on her scalp normally caused by dandruff, I could not believe it.

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On the third day, Julia did come to my room and almost leaped out of bed in joy. I got her chatting and I knew there and then that I wanted to know her even more. She just fascinated me and I was caught up in her aura. She was tall and slender and seemed too delicate to be drawing blood leave alone working in a hospital. Her hair was long and seemed to catch the rays of the sun between its blond strands. She walked with such grace and I thought she was literally floating off the ground. Her hands were delicate and had long fingers that I longed to caress my skin, though she was always either drawing blood or adjusting the needle in my arm. Over the course of my one week stay at the hospital I lived everyday for her and for the prospect of seeing and talking to her again. When the doctor came in excited telling me that I would be released the following day, I did not know what to make of it. I was happy to be recovering well and to get back to my family but at the same time I wanted to stay around and see Julia gain, to be with her. When she came in for her shift that day, I knew I had to ask her out before I left or I would lose her forever. I took her hand in mine as I sat by the window and told her what I felt, she stared into my eyes with such warmth and firmly told me that she was not allowed to date her patients then hurriedly walked out. I was dejected but I still felt like I had a shot since she had not said that she was seeing someone, was engaged nor married.

I did not see Julia again that day and on the morning when I released from the hospital. I left with my parents and headed home for my recuperation. The first day was fine since I was surrounded by family and friends who took up all the duties and I was literally forbidden from even drawing my own drinking water. Had been a few months earlier I would have found myself enjoying all the attention and all the perks that came with it. I had been very athletic in school and some people thought that eventually I would have taken up professional level football after high school. As a result I was always at the beck and call for everyone in the house and around our home since they all thought that having been a football player, I was really strong. I had mended fenced, helped move stacks of hay for the horses, changed flat tires and practically and had attended to all the chores one can imagine. It did not come as surprise thought that during this time no one ever thought that I could get sick or that I could ever be unwell thus need tender loving care. My mother was worried about me and I could tell it from her eyes that she was wishing the pain I had away and would have done anything for me if I asked. My sister had gone back to her busy city life and all I got from her was a bouquet of flowers and a teasing card. Two days of being at the mercy of my family and just lazing around in the house was already driving me crazy. I made up an appointment with the doctor and immediately everyone offered to drive me to the hospital, I told them that I had already made arrangements to have a cab pick me up but my father would hear none of it. He drove me to the hospital but agreed to wait for me in the car. Immediately I entered the hospital I went to the reception desk and asked the lady at the desk if she knew of a nurse called Julia. She said that it was a common name and that I needed to have a second name, which I did not have. Just as I was engaging the lady again and pestering to have her call out for nurse Julia on the public address system, my father walked in and enquired from me what was going on. I told him I had seen the doctor and as we were leaving I caught a glimpse of her at the staff cafeteria as she sipped on mocha. I made a detour immediately and headed right towards her. I saw her looking at me as I walked towards her and I almost lost my balance so I walked right past her to the till. I bought two coffees and scribbled my number on a napkin that I placed on her table as I walked by her again. Just before the car left the driveway I stole a glance at her through the side mirror and saw her place the napkin in her pocket with a smile on her face.

Having to wait for anything is really hard. Waiting for Julia’s phone call was the worst possible torture for me. The phone would ring and I would be there waiting and hoping that it would be her. Hours turned into days, days into nights and I got no phone calls except from my sister checking on my condition. It reminded me of the winter just after my sister had graduated from campus and had taken a trip with her friends to Russia to celebrate their passing of their bar admittance test. She was to fly back just in time for Christmas and we were all looking forward to spending the holidays together. The day before her flight was due, there were weather reports confirming our worst fears that many flights around Europe and America had been cancelled due to the unfavorable flying weather patterns that were forming in the northern hemisphere. We were all very concerned for her and were sad that she would miss out on a Christmas tradition that we have always had. She called and talked to my father on phone and reassured us all that she was fine and that she and her friends would stay together even through Christmas eve since almost all the flights were cancelled. A few hours later, there came another phone call from one of her Russian friends who said that my sister had left with her friends and were heading home. My father kept shouting to this girl asking her how and why they decided to come home despite the warnings. She said that she had been asked to just call if they had not returned in a couple of hours, which is what she had done. That call changed Christmas that year. We were all waiting to hear from her or from practically anyone else who knew where she was. To make the matter worse still, there came on the television a report that there had been an air crash somewhere within Europe involving a passenger plane and rescue efforts were still underway. You could have heard a pin drop in our living room at that particular time.

 It was not merry in any way on Christmas morning in our house save for the Christmas tree and decorations that appeared limp like they too could sense our pain and uncertainty. Just as we all sat down staring at the phone waiting for any news, the door bell rung. We looked at each other then away from each other since we all thought that it was the police delivering the bad news about my beloved sister. My father went up to the door, straightened up then opened the door. Lo and behold there she was, drenched in ice, with her arms full and friends in tow. That was the closest my dad came to having a heart attack. She later told us that they had hitched a ride onto a train out of Russia and then smiled and flirted their way onto a military plane bringing back troops from a neighboring country. It was the best Christmas ever.

One hot afternoon as I was lying by the pool watching the family dog take a dip, I heard my mother call out from the house that I had a phone call. I told her to tell whoever it was that would call them back later. I did not give much thought into it until we were having dinner and in the course of conversation, mother inquired from me who Julia was. I almost chocked at my salad. How did she know of Julia? She said that it was the girl that had called earlier asking for me. I literally chocked this time around. She had called and I rejected her call, after waiting for so long I had declined to talk to her after she called. I made a point of calling the hospital in search for her to no avail and in the end I went there personally. This time round the lady at the reception desk immediately recognized the name and this got me excited only for her to tell me that Julia had left the hospital a day earlier and was on a transfer to a sister hospital in The United States of America to enable her to get closer to her school so she can attend classed to upgrade her from a nurse to a doctor. I felt my heart crush and could not understand how all this things were happening. I did my calculations and made frantic phone calls to the airport and asked the driver to take me there. I ran like a mad man to the boarding gates only to be told that the flight to America was boarding and I was not allowed access to the plane or the gate. I went over to the screen and called out her name so loudly and frantically that I scared some waiting passengers. Then I saw her looking at me and also trying to wave back at me, I wanted her to drop her small bag and come running to me, into my waiting arms but instead all she did was wave at me and throw an air kiss at me. I fell to my knees when I saw her board the plane. I only got up long after the plane had taxied and taken off and I went home in a zombie state. No one understood me and I once overheard my father talking to my uncle about how they ought to look for a good doctor who would look after me in the city’s mental institution. I lost a lot of weight since I did not have an appetite and I felt like the world had crumbled under my feet. This came to an end one morning when I picked the phone after it had rang a couple of times without being answered. On the other line was my Julia.

 
 
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Over the next couple of weeks all I did was anticipate the time of day when I would sit and talk to Julia for a whole hour over the phone. She gave me updates on how her stay in The United States of America was going and on how her studies were and I told her of my escapades at home and how I had assisted my father in running the family business. We talked about what she had for lunch and I told her what I thought we were going to have supper from the aroma in the kitchen downstairs. All of a sudden I had found a purpose in my life and I looked forward to each day. I took stock of my life and decided to follow in my sisters footsteps thus I enrolled for an architecture course in campus. My grandfather had been a renowned architect and his designs stood tall in major capitals around Europe thus he was very proud that I was taking after him. I talked to my parents and my sister about Julia and they were all looking forward to meeting her when she visited during the holidays. I had just gotten an internship with one of the most renowned architectural firm in the country and there was a generous allowance with the offer and I was so excited and could not wit to share this with my love Julia. That day, she did not call me. I called her line and it was picked by someone else who told me that she had volunteered to go on a rescue medical mission to South America and she had not left a forwarding address.

I could not believe this. I booked the next flight to The United States of America and took a cab straight to where she had been boarding. I gathered from her colleagues that she had been planning that trip for at least two months and none of them knew where exactly the mission was based. I had hit a dead end and felt like so dejected; I could not understand how my Julia could not have just mentioned it in any of our conversations that she was planning on going to no man’s land literally without informing me. I was more than torn apart. I had professed my feelings for her and even introduced her to my family. I had let her talk to my mother over the phone and she had even offered to cook her very famous cranberry pie when she visited us later that year. What had gone wrong within a day, or was it months? I could not understand why she left without informing me after telling me that she loved me the previous evening during our usual one hour phone conversation. Jean could not understand this either and could offer me nothing that could console me. Mother made my favorite dishes but still I felt empty inside. I vowed to look for her and give her a chance to explain to me what had gone wrong between us. 

Days came and went, month after month till the years went on by silently. I graduated top of my class in architecture and got myself a job in the city. I rented a penthouse in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods and bought myself a sports car. I had worked hard and so I deserved it all and much more. I made friends with the young men who just like me had seen themselves through law school or other degrees and were now enjoying the fruits of their labor. We were a nice tight group that painted the city red when we decided to hit the streets. All the beautiful women from the models to the waiters in our favorite pub wanted to be our girls. We did not disappoint. I had so many girlfriends I lost track; losing one meant I could triple the number in no time. Girls seemed to line up for my friends and I to take a pick. This was the life. Mother would ask my sister to pass by my place and check on me and as predicted she would find me either out partying or lying on my hardwood floor totally wasted on alcohol and sometimes hard drugs. I had all the money I needed and all I wanted was a fun way to spend it. The fast life had started getting into my head and when I was not drunk I was looking forward to the next chance for me to get a drink. My performance at the work place started showing areas of weakness and my boss sent me numerous warning letters to this effect. Finally my boss called me into his office and having been a close acquaintance to my father and grandfather offered me the choice of taking leave from work to go get myself clean before I went too far in destroying and wrecking my personal and professional life. I thought about it on my way home and could not understand how I even ended up in that state.

As if by cue, my grandparents visited me around this time and offered me the gift of a trip to India. This was a meditational and spiritual journey that would take me through a tough road in search of my inner true self. I was reluctant at first but after waking up to an empty diary for the day, I decided to take it up. My journey to India was uneventful and i settled into one of the hotels in Delhi. I had a guide who took up the task of showing and taking me around all the important sites and places in the country. Later on we did go to the hills where there were numerous temples that were inhabited by monks. I got into their routine and actually started appreciating their way of life. The serenity and holiness of the temples was immaculate and one felt very calm and at peace when in those grounds. Their response to stimuli was unimaginable and the level of discipline was beyond measure. I started evaluating my life and trying to figure out why I had made some of the choices I had made in my life. I joined them in meditation and soon I was literally one of them. The temple priest called me one day and got me talking about the reason why I had chosen to be there with them. We talked for quite a while and he invited me for some special prayers that were to be held a few days later. These he said were no ordinary prayers and one needed to be as righteous as possible to be considered for the rituals. I wanted to feel like one of them and I thought I had proven myself to the monks and their temple thus was ready to attend. The prayers included numerous rituals that I was invited to participate and in the end the priest read peoples palms and told them their futures or just about anything that he could read from their palms. When my turn came I was shaking like a leaf. I did not know what to expect since is possible that he might see just about anything. Suddenly ai did not feel as strong as before and I was scared, if only a bit.    

Suddenly the priest started referring to females and I wondered if he was going to castigate me for having lied and tricked numerous girls into my bed over the last couple of years. He murmured and chanted some more and in the end I got my readings. These too came with a shocking revelation. I was informed that I had been a farmer in my past life and despite of what I thought of it, that had been my life earlier. I was told that the readings showed that I had been married to a wonderful woman then and that I had a big family with many children. It was disclosed to me that I had not been the best father or a model husband and had been a negative force in my family’s life. The priest said that he had reason to believe that in that life I had been a drunk man, a cheat and a wife batterer who had no respect for his wife or children. Me? No way! I was told that in that life I had lied into stealing other people’s farms and livestock and preyed mainly on sick men and widowed women and also on orphaned children. I used to lead a very disturbing lifestyle an according to the priest I had angered the gods who had thus put a spell on me and my future life. I was now totally in shock. The priest went on to say that my life would never turn out right until I made my old life clean and appeased the gods. The soul of my previous wife was still around and was in despair as it sought me to apologize and repent of all the nasty things that I had done to it. I wanted someone to come around and pinch me to get me out of this dream, the person described by the priest could not be possibly me, or could it? Was there a way out of this mess really? To top it all, the priest then told me that all my efforts to look for a life partner would be futile as long as my former wife haunted me up until I made everything right. I hated myself and wanted to make things right as soon as possible if only there was a way that I could.

I was given clear instructions and was ordered to complete the rituals by a certain deadline. It was only then that I headed back home with the formula to get my life back. On arriving home, I apologized to my family for my unbecoming behavior and promised to uphold the dignified name of the family. I went to my place of work and apologized to my colleagues and my boss for not taking my work seriously and for running my own errands during company time. My boss was so impressed and invited me back to work whenever I felt fit enough to return to work. I called up all my drinking buddies and casually but clearly explained to them why I would not be joining them anymore in their drinking sprees. I apologized to my numerous girlfriends and broke up with all of them. I cleared the expansive and expensive penthouse that I used to call home and moved into a more manageable apartment and the money that I got from the sale of my penthouse plus some more that I got from my account I sent out to a couple of charities that dealt with neglected children and abused women. At the end of it all, I felt like the heaviest load had been lifted from my shoulders. That same evening as I sat down to have my dinner in my new rather small apartment I got a phone call from my mother. Julia had called and was in town looking for me. I called the number to the hotel that she had left and when I heard her voice on the other end of the phone, I fought back tears from my eyes. I still could not understand how one simple woman could have such a strong grip on my heart. I always crumbled in her presence. I invited her over to my place so we could talk of which she obliged.

It still felt like a dream to me. When I woke up the following morning and smelled her hair and felt her breath next to me, I still could not believe that my Julia was lying next to me, naked. I looked around and traced her court on the floor and her silk dress next to the bed. I could not see her shoes though but I slowly guessed where they might be after tracing back to the happenings of the previous night. She has come into my apartment and I had just stood there transfixed at the door without a clue as to whether I should hug her, kiss her or just say hi. I wanted to be mad at her, I had so many questions that I wanted her to answer and at the same time I wanted to hold her close and tell her that it was going to be alright, after all she was my Julia. In the end I had opened and stretched my arms to her and held her so close I would have pushed the air out of her chest. I embraced her for what seemed like forever and when I let her go she had tears in her eyes. I wiped them off with my hands and invited her to sit ad share in my meal. We agreed to eat first and then talk all we wanted later. My Julia was eating from my plate and drinking from my cup, it was real, and finally she was here with me.

I got out of bed slowly not to wake her up and tip toed to the kitchen where I saw the half eaten remains of yesterday’s dinner. A smile crossed my face when I recalled the circumstances that led to the dinner to be left uneaten. What a lovely night I had, it had to came to pass just the way I has envisioned it would. The only woman I ever wanted, the only woman I had ever loved was lying in my bed. Her clothes were spewed all over my floors and I was making her a hot cup of coffee to wake her up. To me my life was just beginning. As the coffee brewed I hummed a happy song to myself, one that I had learned as a young boy when I visited my ever happy grandpa. I filled two mugs and walked to the bedroom. There she was, propped against the pillows and smiling at me with her hair cascading down to frame her pretty face. I was madly in love. I suggested that we take a shower together and she asked me to go on ahead as she took her coffee. The small innocent kiss she gave me as she took her coffee mug from my hand was the last one. Coming from the shower, she was gone. This was the exact instance that I felt my heart break into pieces, the second time coming second to seeing my mother cry over her falling hair. She had just dressed, took the coffee and left. My Julia had left me while I was in the shower, she left before we were even together.  I sat there for a while and realized that I was not mad at her anymore, I kind of understood her. Probably that is the way that our lives were meant to be.

Here I am today in this cottage all by myself with wine as my companion. I keep telling myself to get up and take a hold of my life but I do not have the strength. I said before that I felt like a tornado had tore right through me, now it feels like I had been squashed by the strong currents of a tsunami. I guess it is good and better that way. Maybe I will finally be washed ashore to dry land, and have a chance to reclaim my life again.

   

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