J’écris partout dès que l’inspiration me prend, des notes par-ci, par-là, des post-it, des enveloppes. J’ai peur de me perdre, de perdre ma place, une place que je n’ai même pas encore trouvée. J’ai oublié mes racines, ma famille, ma langue, je suis loin et je me sens déracinée.
I have trust issues, I do not even trust myself. I am wondering if you think of me sometimes. I often listen to our songs and I remember the time we had. Life is not difficult as long as I’m not letting myself being involved. I decided to leave my country, I decided to go because it was my dream and it gave me a freedom of mind that I would never have found anywhere else. However, I miss the people that I know I will never lose. The people I have never argued with and who will never never let me down. I don’t miss the places, not really. The language? I am not sure, it feels like a foreign language to my ear, I lost my words. I don’t miss the lonely and sad winter evenings in this lost place. I don’t miss the feeling of having survived. I feel more alive far away, but what about you? I will never feel quite whole without you and I will never be with you either. You don’t even realise that these words, all those words are meant for you and only you. I miss others of course, they have been part of my life shortly, made my heart beat faster, but nothing compared to you.
Nostalgie, nostalgie, quand tu me prends, je ne peux plus me débarrasser de toi.
Let’s change the tune and think about someone else. I remember this time when I was around 13, I had borrowed the CD from a friend and all I could do was think of you and listen to the songs and write your name in green in my diary, over and over again. If only I would have known…
New songs will bring their share of memories too. Another person who passed quickly through my life before discarding me, someone whose songs I can never forget. The days pass and nothing changes, maybe I just wait for the right time.
Being far away is a blessing and a curse at the same time, my life here is full of laughter and happiness, new discoveries and friends although I always keep a cold heart, I always stay suspicious of what is yet to come. I cannot trust anyone, I need to write it because I will never tell you. Do you remember the daffodils? Do you remember the coloured houses? Do you remember being crazy and not care about the rest of the world? Do you remember my anger and my tears? Another love.