Tabula Rasa

Face à moi, les décombres des quinze dernières années de ma vie. Sur le sol gris poussiéreux entre deux blocs de ciment, j’entrevoie une touche de jaune et de vert. Une graine s’est logée là, dans ce monde sans couleur. Ne pouvant rouler plus loin, elle a attendu de germer et d’offrir sa beauté au monde. Aujourd’hui, cette fleur qui croît  parmi les ruines s’offre à mon regard. Telle cette graine portée par le vent de la vie, coincée là, au creux des éboulis, dépitée de ce piètre terreau, je vais m’obstiner à grandir.

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To my ex’s next girlfriend

Searching for peace. 

 

La version française de cet article est à retrouver ici.

It has been four months since my husband and I split up. My house is not yet sold. My ex-husband still leave there with half of our furniture. I drop my daugther off there every two week-ends. Every two weeks, I ring the bell of my own house, I say hi to my ex which sounds weird. When I get into the house, I feel like I am a stranger to my own life. I have a glimpse around and can recognize some familiar pieces of furniture, the doormat on which I used to wipe my feet after a hard day at work. Then, I firmly hug my daugther while automatically saying « see you in a couple of days, sweetheart » and I get back into the car. I drive away from my dream house, away from this fairy tale that I built brick by brick by means of huge efforts and hard work: a happy family, warm home, financial comfort, deep and inconditional love. After many weeks, I get used to drive away my own house,  feeling this intense sorrow fading away while pushing the gas pedal.

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