To my Dearest Friend

Are you afraid

'Are you afraid to see him again?' Emile asks.

I frown and shake my head, 'Of course I'm not scared, I'm very excited to see him again.' 'He will arive in two days right?! I nod. 'How long will he be s staying? I Émile asks. 'About two weeks before going to Vienna.' Emile sits down next to me and kisses me. I barely respond to it. The black cloud above me has been nagging at my eating away at my consciene. I wish I could run away from all this.

'Hand me the wine Émile,' I command him. He looks at me, clearly disappointed and proceeds to shakes his head, 'You can just drink a cup of coffee.' He responds. 'Just Give it!!' I scream. He rolls his eyes and walks away but doesn't give it to me. I sigh. 'I'm so sorry darling.' He puts on a jacket.

'I'm taking a walk, you are a allowed to go with me but when I return I'm expecting you to be snap out of being a self pitying self entitled brat understood?" I nod. 'I love you." He says while going outside.

I put my hand on my eyes and as my tears flow down my smiling mouth. What a pathetic person I am. Look at Émile, he is revered in high society about his extravagant dinner parties and balls, Yves is doing business for his father, succesfully as always. Why can't I j just suck it up and make something a name for myself? But what can I do? Akiva, apparently Yves new best friend, (I promised myself no to be jealous but god I am so jealous) has a succesful doctors practice, and he's a Jew! And I am here wallowing in self pity and self-destruction. I am an utter disappointment to everybody I know, I am a fairy to my father, I didn't reach my potential my professors said I have, I am a traitor to my Yves and I am a simple disappointment to my dear Émile.

I keep trying to ignore what a shame I truly am. I am a failure in every way possible. I promised I would make people proud, I promised Yves I would make him proud. We would change the world, together, and he never Believed me. Perhaps he was right. I stand up, take a breath Cyril.

He could be home any minute. I clean myself up, shave, wash my face and when I'm putting on new clothes I hesitate to put on Yves signet ring. I decide no to, maybe if I let go of him this feeling will disappear too. But I know I would always simply wait till somebody with his eyes would come into my life. Why can't it be a women for once?

I'n walking through the early morning fog or Paris, I'm swearing to myself. I knew this  was a bad idea, but my heart, my stupid indulgent selfish heart thought that I could make it work. I know he desired Yves, I am not blind. But still I want him so hopelessly. Everything he does frustrates me. I am not enough for him. I feel bad at all the times.

Still I give it my all. I really do, I adore him, I give him my heart even when I am hesitating. When I met him I could only see his eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. I fell in love with that young curiosity. I can't shake the feeling of like I had finally found somebody like me. I immediately fell in love with the idea of him. Perhaps I am still.

 the cool fog is like a soft hand caressing me face. I close my eyes and only listen to the birds ssinging their song in the park. I've always love Parc Monceau. It has always been so tranquil. I like to go hide here when I need to think.

Someone sits down next to me I open my eyes. It's Cyril. 'I knew you'd be here.' He says shortly. I smile, perhaps I was blowing all of it out of proportion. 'I'm sorry-' he says. I smile. 'It's okay, don't apologise.' He smiles and grabs my hand. We look at the birds together. I smile. Maybe everything will be fine.

We are drinking a cup of coffee and smoking a cigarette in a cafe. He seems happy I hope he is happy. You never truly know with him. but I can't froce him to tell me everything, and I am okay with that. As long as he pretends to be happy I cannot help him, why would I try to make him even more sad?