She sits on the window seat waiting his return. His presence can still be felt throughout her apartment, yet his exit led her to believe that he will not be back. An ultimatum was made to her that threatened her very existence. She had to choose between what her soul needed to survive and the man she loved.
The day prior was like any other. To begin her day, she wrote all of her thoughts in her journal then tucked it inside her bag. He walked into the kitchen to see her sitting at their wrought iron café table sipping a mug of Earl Grey tea. She could sense that he was looking in her direction. She turned to him, said good morning and attempted to walk through the tiny galley kitchen to prepare for the day. He clutched her arm asking if she had thought about what he proposed. Without a word, she walked away.
Later that day while mesmerized by the birds outside, she knew what she had to do. Once she returned home, they sat in the parlor to talk. She could not concede to his wishes, for she had much more to her journey than being his wife. Knowing of the long venture ahead, she pleaded for him to stay beside her, to remain as they were just in a different context. He could not move past the idea that she had denied him, he retreated to the bedroom. He did not reappear that evening.
It became a morning of despair. Before she awoke, he had packed his bags to leave. His pride was injured by what he considered hurtful intentions. How could she resist his marriage proposal, his wealth, and his promise to take care of her forever? What he neglected to see was her soul that shone. She was made of fire and desire. She brought love to her surroundings with an appreciation for the ordinary. She wasn’t made for the life he insisted upon her. She needed more to survive. Wealth and riches didn’t make her happy; it was the lust for a life outside of his small-minded view. She thrived knowing that Paris needed her just as she needed Paris.
Filled with sorrow, she wiped away her tears. Only thinking of one thing.. she knew it was her time to live. With a flutter in her heart, she boarded a train to Paris. This is where she had to remind herself that the past is just that and she was destined for greater things ahead. Upon her arrival, she did what she pictured in her mind for many years.. she found a quaint apartment in the seventh arrondissement adorning a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. Dropping her bags in the center of her new home, she stared out the window for what seemed like hours. This is it. This is home. She had never felt so comfortable in her life. Her small town in England was beautiful, but this, this is life changing.
Creating the most amazing setting for her typewriter, she perched herself at the window flourishing with intense inspiration. She sat, expecting to be overwhelmed by the loss of her love, an unknown city, new home, yet all she could do was smile. This was the happiest she had been since she was a child. Filled with elation, she began to type. She typed through the night, watching the sun rise the next morning. Before long, she had filled so many pages of a story that she felt in her bones.
She was home.