Today is a day off. I'm gonna let the shutters close, won't speak to anyone, and just stay still, in silence and peace.
A few weeks ago, my mother told me that Carole was more or less at the end of her life, in the hospital and under sedation for a throat tumor that would not heal. Ophélie had told her the news over the phone. Apparently, although fully aware of her condition, she was very happy: happy to be in bed with nothing to do, to be fed, changed, washed, and pampered by the nurses. According to my mother, she was simply happy to be treated like a small child, something she had never been allowed to be before. When I heard this, I realized that fundamentally, I wanted nothing else in life either. To be loved, pampered, fed, to listen and watch what was going on around me, but without doing anything, without participating, without getting involved.
"I'm walking with Emmanuelle, I'm not sure where. It's chilly and very dark. Maybe she's accompanying me to college. I intend to enroll as an auditor. I'm a little excited about the idea, it's like a new life, new paths opening up before me, a second youth. The atmosphere between us is heavy, sad, with a lot left unsaid."
This dream is one example among many of dreams of silent, sad, or strange walks with my successive companions over the years. It took me a long time to identify this recurring theme and begin to decipher it a little, and to understand that they were metaphors for the wandering that was our life together, a life without direction, without purpose—we moved forward at random, in the dark, not really talking to each other, side by side but fundamentally (already) separated.
hosted on thoughts.page. theme by evy. check out the thoughts webring!