goodnight radio romeo

promo

whatifmaybe — Mon, 20 Jul 2015 16:08:21 GMT

whatifmaybe — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 11:50:34 GMT

I thought I was ready.
He was yelling at me in French. Well, not yelling, but I could see he was upset.

Pourquoi fais-tu ça? Je ne comprends pas, pourquoi êtes-vous allé? Est-ce moi? Suis-je la raison pour laquelle vous ne voulez plus rester à Paris? Dites-moi, s'il vous plaît me dire. Je ne sais pas ce que c'est que j'ai fait de mal.

It isn't you at all. If I could I would take you with me, but your home is Paris, you could never leave there, you said it yourself.

S'il vous plaît donnez-moi votre adresse pour que je puisse vous rendre visite, où que vous soyez. S'il vous plaît dites-moi, je ne veux pas d'envoyer des e-mails, s'il vous plaît appelez-moi, écris-moi, s'il vous plaît me dire quelque chose.

That is it, I don't want you to visit me, not now at least.

Tears were forming in my eyes and I sat there on the couch, staring at the screen of my laptop for 5 minutes? an hour? I really didn't know, I was numb. Next thing I remember was Robin sitting next to me, closing my laptop and taking me into the kitchen to eat something. Nothing fancy, just a cheese sandwich, but it made me cry even harder.
Robin didn't say anything. He just sat there, opposite of me at the dinner table, pouring me some more wine. IT was kind of ironic to have a cheese sandwich with some wine, but it made sense at the time.

I guess I'm not ready at all...

whatifmaybe — Tue, 28 Sep 2010 10:50:17 GMT

It took me a few days to settle in, but my flatmate Robin is the most awesome person I know in this city. He is also the only one, if you don't count the homeless guy at the end of the street that stares at me like I am a can of beer. Robin told me not to give him any money, but I did anyway. I gave him a Euro to get something to eat, he probably spend it on some beer, which explains the weird looks I get from him.
The room I have in Robin's house isn't the biggest one, It feels like a cupboard compared to what I usually have, but I like that the only thing in it is my bed and a small dresser. It forces me to get out of the room more, interact with people, something one apparently never forgets, like riding a bicycle. It forces me to spend some time with Robin, which I don't mind. I don't get to see him a lot during the day. The bills for the flat do have to get paid. So he works during the day, I make sure I have dinner ready and try not to turn on my laptop during the day.
I am sure Louis send me an e-mail. He read the letter, I saw him reading it. I didn't gave him my address and he doesn't have the phone number I have right now. I told him he could mail me, I just don't want to read his e-mails right now.
I still feel guilty. I think I do. I mean, I needed a change, I really did. Paris is the town I was born, it feels like home, but I wasn't feeling happy there any more. Louis made me happy, but he wasn't enough to stay. Hayden also made me happy once, but I wasn't enough for him to stay.
I didn't know which guy I loved. I guess I loved both, but there is a difference. They both mean so much to me, I just...
I don't know.

I am going down to the shop now. Robin will be back in a few hours and I also want to make one of my pies for dessert. I might get my laptop out for a few minutes. I have to talk to Louis some time, might as well be today.

I hate today.

Check out earlier stories here. First one on the bottom.

whatifmaybe — Wed, 22 Sep 2010 14:16:27 GMT

Decided to only pack one bag. Well, one bag and one box, but the box is filled with memories. Memories and shoes. You can't expect a girl to leave behind her shoes?
The train leaves in a few hours, just enough for me to do some last minute stops.
The letter to Louis is at the top of my bag. It is the most important thing, but I am not sure if I can do it. I am still thinking about sending it by mail, instead of giving it to him personally.

There is however not a lot of time to think about it. I lock the door of my flat and step out, for the last time. I drop the keys off and walk through the streets. I love Paris in the fall, especially when it's sunny, like today. I will miss it, but it's only a few hours away and I know I will visit again. I drop off some letters to family at the post office. They need to know where I will be staying and I figured this would be better then sending out an e-mail.
As I walk out, Louis' letter is still safe in my bag. His place is only a few minutes from here and I decided I own him an explanation, the one in the letter doesn't cut it, I need to say that I am sorry, sorry for hurting him, sorry for loving him, for leaving him.

It will take me 3 minutes to find the courage to knock at his door. The minute it will take him to get to the door seems even longer. His face will light up when he sees me and I will try to stop the hug that he is giving me. Tears will form in my eyes and he notices it.
'What is wrong?' That cute French accent.
'Nothing.' I will say as I wipe my face.
'Don't lie. You know you are terrible at lying.'
'I came to give you this.' And I will give him the letter.
'What is it?'
'An apology. An explanation.'
'What for?'
'Just. Don't be mad at me... I have to go now. I still have to go to some places. Please, just don't be mad.'
'What for? Jane', a pause, 'what is going on. Tell me!' His grip is tightening. 'Tell me now.'
'I can't. Please, just read it. It is important.'
He rips open the letter and starts reading. It will be to late for me to walk away and he will convince me to stay. Stay with him, love him, never leave him.

All of that would happen if he was at home, but he isn't. I leave the letter at the door and just hope he won't be mad.
As I walk away I turn around once before I walk around the corner. He just came home and he saw the letter. Tears fall down my face as I walk to the metro and leave. He will be mad...

whatifmaybe — Tue, 21 Sep 2010 13:53:25 GMT

I've decided to open the doors again. To come out of the save place that is my own home. It smells and there is a huge stain on the white, wooden floor.
First thing on the list is to eat a croissant, maybe even two if I felt like it. His picture is on the table, next to the keeps to my flat. I also need a new phone. I threw my old one into the river some time ago because I couldn't deal with the constant ringing.
As I close the door the light of the October Sun is burning my eyes, locking yourself up in a room and keeping the curtains closed isn't the best thing to do.

The store stopped selling coffee and croissants. When did this happen, you ask? Apparently a few weeks ago. There is now a souvenir shop. Like we needed more of those.
I need to leave the city. Find a different place for me to start again. I can't deal with it all, I want to run, hide, bury myself alive perhaps.

15 minutes later I had put my apartment up for sale. It would be gone within a few days, I knew it. I had spend every cent I had left on it, It was gorgeous and I would get it all back. I would start again in a new town, a new country, a new life... a new love.

Au Revoir Paris. You will be missed.

Jane Doe.
(I need to practice writing again, so you will see lots of updates from Jane)