Open letter to my mother
– Jan.19th 2016 – Mom, today my classes at university started again for a second semester. The Christmas Holidays felt to me like they were expanding on several months, so the idea of going back to this rythme, this life, these classes, these hours on the bus, the corridors, or the amphitheaters was kind of overwhelming me. Corollary, of course: I’ve only slept by intervals of 30 minutes during the night from yesterday to today. I wanted to take one of this meds for stress you bought me, but as I’ve told you on the phone last time: I don’t have any anymore. On the way to university, were I only had one class of Latin, cutting by the wood, I slowed my pass and I thought… About you, of course, whom I miss all the time, everywhere… and about Félix too, and the memories of the days at home were we didn’t do anything. And then, about the cold air which is always better when there are trees near by, and about the strange feeling of remembering that there are people, here or there, being so terribly happy of being alive, that they can forget about misery for a moment. I’ve tried the tiny thermos bottle you offered me, by pouring coffee in it, that was still steaming hours later. Thanks. Outside, there is almost-rain. A rain-not-rain, not daring to fall, shy in the cold. It makes me think that I should buy some gloves -and I mean, REAL gloves, not mittens. It’s too cold for that. I am at page 75 of “Bouvard et Pécuchet” by Flaubert, that I am going to study… which means too far from the end… This book is boring me terribly. On the way back, I saw a green anise car and it made the corners of my heart smile, thinking about you. I have finally watched the last episode of Sherlock this morning. It makes me jump on my chair and I can’t wait for season 4. I’ve put on brand-new socks too. They are soft and thin, like the clothes of a doll. I have millions of ideas in a second and too many stories to tell. I think it’s because of that old rotary phone Laurent gave me. It inspires me images and blurred dreams. I went food shopping at the store on the road my bus takes. I’ve bought soup to diluted, clementines, and a zucchini. I have a fidelity card there, now. I make lists and notes on notebooks and sticky-notes by dozens. A bit because I’m affraid to forgot everything, a bit because I love them. Lists. You know it. I have washed my studio twice two days in a row because it didn’t feel enough like home… It didn’t really work, but I like the feeling I get when I enter a cleaned room. Like someone pressed “pause” until I came back. My cactus Balthazar has rotted during the holidays because I wasn’t there to take care of him. I had to throw him away. I am drinking white grapefruit juice and it is warm-cold in the flat. I miss you, I love you, see you soon. – your child (the one on the middle).