missteacher

Holidays are just a transition for French teachers. It's a two-month transition before starting a new school year. This transition is quite eventful for me as I'm preparing to start a new life in a new place. I'm moving to the suburbs of Paris to teach. I'm not going there alone, fortunately. I don't know if I would have been able to face all those many new things just by myself.
It's going to be exciting, as it always is when it is new. My life in this current city has been nice - but it is now over. I wanted a change, after only two years living here. It was enough. I feel I don't like to stay in the same place very long. I feel I am too young to settle somewhere, somewhere sure, somewhere definite. Nothing should be definite. I should be able to accept new challenges anytime. I have to. I will turn 24 soon. This is too young for anything to be definite.

I'm sometimes longing for new places. Places where everything can begin again. Places where I am a stranger, and yet where I can feel I am in the right place.

I am longing for this feeling, this one feeling I already had. This somehow lost feeling.
The feeling of freedom, of infinite possibilities, of open future, of endless opportunities and dreams.

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We were young. Not young in the sense of not aged. Young in our spirits. We all left our countries, coming to a new one. We were all looking for something. Including me. I found what I came for. Freedom. Freedom of mind.
There was nothing to worry about. Nothing mattered. Everything was far. Only the next day counted, the next meeting, the next talk, the next kiss, the next party. Our lives were rhythmed by our encounters.
We felt eternal. There were no obstacles. Happiness was our common lot.

Then we all left.
We all left Ireland.
And the feeling was lost.