Summertime Sadness (James McAvoy fanfiction)

Chapter 60: "Frühling In Paris"

I remember it like it was yesterday. I no longer believed in the idea of soulmates, or love at first sight as most of the films try to sell us. It was clear that kind of love would happen to me no more. No more hope of the thought of him coming back to me, to what we were once.

That's one of the prices you have to pay, and the death weigh you have to carry upon your shoulders all of your life. I knew for sure I would end my days all alone. Because there wasn't a 'someone' for me, another person who could make me feel the same way I felt once. Sometimes it is called the first love, or the love or your life, depends on who feels that.

As I sat in silence the following days, even a year, the evidence became crystal clear. Everything tasted bitter, heartless, sad. I was so hollow. The colours that once were filling the white and black, were there no longer.

But I kept denying myself over and over again. I became numb, I couldn't watch happy couples walking through the streets, making future plans I had one day. I couldn't stand it. Not in Paris.

Paris, capital of France and the city of love. I hated the last term the city had. It remind me of him too much. But the harder I tried to forget, the worst it reminded.

I missed him. I missed his laugh, his kisses, the way he used to cheer me up when I was down, the way he embraced me, the way he loved me so much that it could hurt and stop anything or anyone.

The break up was one of the hardest things I lived. We lived, if you excuse me. Since that, I used to imagine what would have been of us. What would have been having a child called Jamie, visiting Loch Ness, Scotland in general. Mind is powerful, not just like me.

I remember it happened after my attempt to live in Russia. It tore us apart, so much that I decided to make my choice to avoid errors, suffering. Not mine but his. That's why I sold my old apartment in England, the house, everything that could link me. A new and fresh life, but not with him by my side.

It wasn't that far since that moment, only a year. I used to write Michael, Hugh, Evan, Erik, Natasha and Jennifer, it wasn't their fault after all. They were good friends of mine too after all their support. Exactly, they were the ones who drove me to the airport because he was too broken to watch me leave.

I can't even name him. I hated him. I hated the way he complained about my words, the temper he had sometimes, the way he hid things away to protect me. How he could conceal things just looking into my eyes. I really hated him.

The only friend I had in Paris, Françoise, told me I, every night she slept in my house, used to name him in my dreams. I ignored her words, though she was right. I still loved him.

We met thanks to our professional career. We went to the same academy to dance, I was no longer teacher.

She used to ask me who was him, and why I wasn't able to date anyone again. I want it no more. No more suffering, no more future plans, no more nothing.

I knew he would find another girl. But I hoped the opposite.

Most of you, the ones who are reading to this essay, are wondering why Paris, why the break up, why there weren't those three years and why there's no Jamie after all. Easy, kids, that's way too easy.

I chose Paris because I wanted, and needed, no one to know me. So now, pay attention to this words because that's how it started once again.

''Girl, chin up, it's Friday and we've finished the classes!'' Françoise exclaimed at the door of the building, which was in the center of the city.

''You are right.'' I sighed, looking at her, smirking as I put on my sunglasses. ''And I know what I'm going to do tonight.''

''Yeah, you are coming with me to the meeting we have at the Elysian Fields!'' She said and I growled. ''And Matt is going to be there because he wants to see you, so...''