I'm almost me again (She's almost you)

Chapter 11

Dear Jisoo,

I'm starting to like it here. Not in the kind of way that would make me want to stay, but I feel better just being here. The quietness of it is enough to heal, just by being left alone to dwell in it long enough. I've been doing a lot of walking around the area, and it's beautiful. It makes me want to travel more - you were right, I should do more of it while I'm young. You'd never believe it, but I haven't been to an antiques store in weeks.

Jennie had a broken grandfather clock in her cottage though. It used to be an old farmhouse, a couple of centuries back. It has so many great old features, it's like going back in time. And the ivy is beautiful. I imagine that autumn makes it magical. Well, she dragged this clock out of the attic for me, and I fixed it the other day while she cooked me dinner in payment. It got me thinking about how isolated my life has been, even when I've been surrounded by people. We talked about her family, and she told me about how she makes her own wine, and it felt good to talk to someone. I feel like I haven't talked so much since you and I were on good terms; it all just came tumbling out. I guess you were right about how much I bottle up too.

But she's so easy to talk to, and I feel like I don't have to pretend around her. She doesn't know me, and she doesn't know you, and I don't have to pretend to be okay about what happened with you. Her heart's been broken before too, and she knows loss and grief, and it's made her kind, and it makes me hope that things will get better for me too. Although, she did buy a cottage in the middle of nowhere, so I'm not sure what to make of that. But, then again, I bought a boat. Perhaps we understand each other better than I thought.

I saw a swallow here too, the other day. The first of the season. It took me by surprise, made me sick with sadness, but I think it was a sign. There are a lot of reminders of you here, where I never thought to find you, and it's been hard, but it's been getting better. I imagine that it's a hopeful sign, after all, you're the one that taught me that swallows are a symbol of home. No matter how far you travel, that you'll make it home. You've been my home since the very beginning, so I like to think that I'll see you in Paris. Afterwards, I don't know what'll happen, but I'm starting to learn to live in the moment and not think too much about the past or present. For now, I'm trying. I'm trying my best, and I'm not having as many bad days anymore.

Love always,

Lisa

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She woke in the shadowy darkness of early morning when the world was still sleeping and only the soft hooting of owls and scratching of small woodland creatures burrowing into their dens before morning dawned split the hushed quietness of the last moments of the night. In the narrow cabin of her boat, Lisa was sitting at the table, writing a letter by a small halo of golden light which kept the darkness at bay. Despite the hopeful nature of its contents, her eyes were shadowed with purple bruises from a sleepless night, and her hand shook as she wrote.

Sealing it in an envelope, she slipped it into the drawer of the nightstand in her bedroom with the intention of sending it soon. Perhaps. The stale smell of whisky clung to yesterday's clothes, and after a sputtering cold shower that took her breath away and chilled her to her core, she dressed in her last t-shirt, pulled her favourite green sweater on and bundled up in her quilt on the floor in front of the old wood fire, a cup of coffee in her trembling hands as the cold seeped into the boat. The mornings were always bitterly cold, bringing with it the worst of her painful memories as the void inside her opened up just a little bit more.