This is a blog post that I wrote on the train from Montpelier to Marseille...after writing it before arriving to Aix I decided to never post it. Upon recent events I have decided to post it. I have't even re-read it since I wrote it...it's completely au natural...no spell check either (good luck) along with a picture immediately after writing it. Act One. Here it is:
It’s gone. My key. The key I’ve worn everyday since December 9th 2006. I had just bought an orangina in the train station from a vending machine and I looked down to see if it was still on my wrist. Which was a negative. It had been pulled off by pressure, which isn’t surprising because I have been hauling around humongous bags all day across countries.
I knew I would have a slight emotional breakdown, whether it showed outside or not, but I never guessed this would happen. I feel so lost. I can’t even call anyone to talk about it. This is lesson number one. I don’t even want to be in France right now. How could I have been so stupid to wear it on my wrist when I knew I would be all over the place? I don’t want to go explore; I don’t want to play soccer; I don’t want to learn French.
Shitty happening number one. Right so it sucks, yeah. I can deal with that. But how can I fix this? I can’t, not really for a year. I believe there were two keys to the lock of my mothers lock, but I’m not sure. And I’m not sure where it would even be. And then I’m not going back to MI for god knows when. Maybe this is a sign. For those who know what the key means, maybe it’s time to quit using my mom’s, and start using my own. I had taken hers and was using it to help me transition to my own life. Her _________ was acting as mine, helping me through. Now, as I enter into completely foreign territory, perhaps it is time I get my own ____________ of myself, of the world and of her. I think this might be good for me. This breaks my ties with the past a little. I have recently felt a few feelings that I probably should have felt a lonnnng time ago about her death. I believe it is time to move on. I am speeding through the French countryside. I do have to a find a completely new key and ________.
Ok then, nowhere to go but forward. On to Marseille, then Aix….and then, well I don’t really know because I don’t have directions to my new home yet. There is a good possibility that I will be spending my night in a train station tonight. Step one. OH man I feel restless now. I want to go find a new key, but it won’t be the same. I wish this had been a choice. A new key and I could have the old one in a box knowing it was there. But it’s out there. Just like she is. Booooooo. Still I must make the best of it; but I would never have picked this. But, I will be okay. I will. It’s just a piece of metal, small at that. I don’t know if I want instant gratification, or if I should take my time and find the right one. I think I need a substitution, but only a stand-in until I find the real thing. Yes that’s it. I have one in New York that will work, and maybe even permanently, because I did get it before this, it wouldn’t be a replacement, IT was a transition, I was debating wearing it instead. Yes. I’m done.
P.S. I don't look as though I love trains so much now, eh?
So it was devastating no? I had lost my key, if you understand the gravity of teh situation, you might also be saying buck up Claire. Also if oyu know me, you know I have weird senses about this that I own and that i use a lot. And people as well. I can feel them. I didn't FEEl that it was gone. Like teh idea made me want to sob, but it didn't register. I though, denial right?
But two days laterrrrrrr:
I am going through my backpack to get my folders of endless papers out for government stuff andddddddd
I FOUND THE KEY AT THE BOTTOM.
It was in my backpack. it had been ripped off of my wrist...and fallen into my backpack. The chances! To think of all teh miles I traveled, cities I walked through, countries I crossed.
Incredible.Needless to say I'm a little happier in the following pictures, non?
I still stand by what I said, I think the transition period is my choice, and I'm choosing it. I think I will now have two. One tried and true, and one new: Mine.
Claire Winter Gorton
Song:There Goes the Fear by Doves
(Sometimes I just love how these songs fit so well with the posts...by chance)