On my way to Monoprix, my thoughts were startled by a cheerful “Bonjour Sharon!” and I saw Vincent, hands full of groceries, beaming at me. Vincent runs a café which I frequent every morning, just because he makes the best Sharon’s café in the world, 3 shots of espresso, a dollop of crème, and a dash of familiarity.
This is the quality of life I seeked, where you settle into a healthy routine, sans drama. Where you make friends with the boulangere, with the restaurant owner, and maybe your neighbour’s cat. You no longer rush to shop and to visit the crowded places-of-interest, but take your own sweet time to picnic at little charming gardens you chanced upon along the way. Nobody here knows me. I can do whatever I want. I can be comfortable with myself, my plain old unglamorous funny self.
Sometimes, not saying anything at all says everything. I found the strength in keeping quiet at last. I am good to let things end.
Because Alexander Venheijer said, “when a flower doesn’t bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower”. So with the same courage I took to leave show business in 2005, I bid farewell again to a toxic relationship with a city, and packed my wounded heart, and my two luggages, for the second time.
Now, your turn.