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Cecilia's P.O.V:

The turbulence was bearable. The airplane meal I could handle. I was enthusiastic, and I missed this feeling. The feeling of expectation. I just knew it, from the bottom of my deep damaged heart that I should've been in France a month ago. What a waste!

I practically ran from customs, got my things, and out the airport. France, the country of elegance and romance. I was so out of place, a fish out of water. I walked reluctantly to hail a taxi, why am I here? Why did I write that on my list? What's the point really? Why am I in the country of love? So much depressing memories from my last trip. I had someone, now I have no one. Not even my best friend. She chose Greece, she stayed there. She was supposed to insist on coming with me, that bastard Kalon!

I spent the night at a hotel. Not as luxurious as the one I stayed at with my husband, but it was fine. I flipped through the channels, ordered room service, and then decided to take a walk.

Paris. Such a marvelous city! Even at night it held its particular charm; the lights that illuminated each and every corner, and the artistic atmosphere that envelops your whole being, the nostalgic sense that people wrote songs and poetry about this magnificent city. The smell of gourmet cooking and morning pastry still clinging in the air, and the ominous view of lovers strolling in the night. Whispering, playful, and so young and in love. I was thirty, in the most romantic city in the world, and I was completely alone. No one held my hand, no one ordered dinner for us while we were in our hotel bathrobes, no one is going to feed me croissants in the morning, and no one is going to drive with me to the south of France. I went back to my hotel, and slept that night with the hope that tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow would redeem today. There is always hope.

Jillian's P.O.V:

I heard it somewhere that the moment you stop planning, everything happens better than you ever expected. Two months make such a difference; I am laughing more, I ate the equivalent of my own weight, I forgot my meds, I danced more, and I lived more. It was not just Kalon, but the culture. It is without any doubt, a country which knows how to life. They close up shop for coffee time, they eat without counting calories, they stay up as late as they can if they feel like it (not worrying about work the day after), and they greet strangers and are just as hospitable.

"Jillian?" Kalon called as was relaxing on a lounge chair.

"Yes Kalon?"

"What am I to you?"

I sat up, surprised by his question, I lowered by sunglasses, "Concerned about labels are we now?" he just stared at me expected an answer, and that's what I gave him, "look Kalon the label thing, it doesn't really work out for me, I just changed my status on Facebook to 'single', surely you didn't expect anything serious did you?" I have half a month left. I was going. He was staying here.

"Maybe things changed? Maybe I want this to be something exclusive?"

I stared at him with mock horror, surely he was not asking for a chance at a relationship.

"You can't expect this from me! Kalon for God's sake I have only known you for two months!"

"People have gotten married in less!"

"NOT ME! It took Zen three years to ask for my hand, and I had known him before! He waited for me to set the date! What makes you think you are any better?"

He cleared his throat, looked right into my eyes with the intention of convincing me, "I know that he turned you to a depressed human being, I know that when you are with me you are more alive, I know you are attracted to me and you show it frequently..." he was about to continue but I stopped him dead in his tracks, "IT WAS NOT HIS FAULT!" I yelled alarming him, "I was unhappy by my own accord, he accepted that, he said he would wait, he said he loved me no matter what!" and the sincerity and truth my words held resonated between me and Kalon and also my entirety.

"Why does Cecilia hate you?" was all I asked.

He spaced out, he refused to look me in the eye. The worst thing I expected was the only real thing.

"Kalon, what did you do?" I pressed the question further.

"We...I mean me and Cecilia...dated for a while" he paused, "I was a hormonal asshole back then...and one night before she left to Russia, I tired taking advantage of that...and I tried to..." he couldn't even finish his sentence.

"Oh Cecilia!" I felt what filth felt like. After the absence of feeling I am feeling everything at once. Hurt, disgusted, disappointed, jealousy, mostly disgust, I felt low. Cecilia should hate me! She looked pass it so many times, she never uttered a word, realizing I was actually content. I am such a terrible friend. I sank my head between my hands, cradling it, expecting a headache, a fate-sent stroke, I deserved that much.

"I can't believe this! How dare you even ask that knowing what you did?!"

"People change."

"That's a lie! A cloth might change color, might be cut into many shapes, but it will always be that same cloth. Same fabric. You are beyond vile. Never, ever, ever speak to me again you...you...disgusting excuse for a man!" I carried my things and left. I wanted to cry, maybe throw up. I trusted this person! I liked this person, a lot may I add.

As I was leaving I heard Kalon, "I am only sorry I gave this the time of day. I thought that you would accept and move past this. People do change. Either for the better or for the worse. I am not proud about what I did in the past, that's why we don't linger in the past; fearing repetition."

"This is different! I didn't rape anyone, or try to! You should've seen my ex fiancé! There was an attempt at rape; from me! I mean he was quite attractive I could have but I didn't..." I laughed at myself! I was imagining raping Zen! How twisted was that! I laughed and laughed. Kalon looked confused, "Look dude, I didn't like you that much in the first place, you were just a breath of fresh air i think i needed, you were fun and all, but this rape thing just pushed me off the edge." I was mad, I was I swear! Yet I was laughing like a hyena.

I wanted to call Cecilia but she did not take her phone with her. She said she would call me and tell me how things went. She hasn't arrived at that farm yet I think.

I dialed the only person who would actually get my joke.

One ring, two rings, "Hello?" a female voice answered.

"Oh sorry I think I have the wrong number. Or dialed it wrong. Is this by any chance Zen's number? Doctor Zen?"

"Happens all the time. Yes actually, he is currently in the bathroom can I take a message for him?"

I was...taken aback. A woman, Zen in the bathroom, huh?

"May I ask who this is?"

"Oh sorry" she giggled and I expected his secretary and he happened to leave his phone or something, "I am Tiana, his fiancé."

That word, that was once my title, was now for another woman. With a shocked expressionless face, I felt a tear, a single tear escape my eyes, slide down my cheek, and descend to the unknown. I hung up. I didn't give a name, or a message. Two months was all it took. I lost the one constant in my life, I took it for granted, and threw it away expecting it to remain in its place. I was slipping, I was being dragged, into this whole I dug for my own self. I started sobbing, I have actually lost! I didn't discover shit! I lost everything! And for what!? Two months in the sun!? I was beyond idiotic! I was not Diane Lane or Julia Roberts! I was a complete and utter idiot, and he is with someone else, and it is all my fault!

note to self : I should really ask my doctor if i am also bipolar, danced between extremes right there!

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