I don't know when it was decided, but some time between yesterday and today the idea began that Ziming, Jagna and I should grab a quick coffee after the exam. When we finally made it to the café at the Pole Étudiant we all discovered that none of us was really in the mood for coffee and Ziming and I both chose instead hot chocolates while Jagna elected for an Earl Grey tea.
Drinks in hand, we walked outside to absorb some of the sunshine that made today's chilly weather almost bearable. Ziming lit a cigarette she bummed off another student and began talking to Jagna about plans to start a business if she could not find one here in Nantes within the next year. All the while I sat and listened, occasionally sipping on my hot chocolate or tracing the paths of the ants at my feet.
Ziming kept commenting on my silence and I kept giving her that time-worn line: "I'm just a little tired today." I couldn't tell her about how all of her talk of permanence saddens me or how I am just beginning to realize that I will never know it in my life. No, for me it is to be a life of constant movement and constant searching I fear. She must have read something in my face or my eyes because she told me that she will miss me and that she hopes I realize that I can always go back.
But is there any real going back?
Drinks in hand, we walked outside to absorb some of the sunshine that made today's chilly weather almost bearable. Ziming lit a cigarette she bummed off another student and began talking to Jagna about plans to start a business if she could not find one here in Nantes within the next year. All the while I sat and listened, occasionally sipping on my hot chocolate or tracing the paths of the ants at my feet.
Ziming kept commenting on my silence and I kept giving her that time-worn line: "I'm just a little tired today." I couldn't tell her about how all of her talk of permanence saddens me or how I am just beginning to realize that I will never know it in my life. No, for me it is to be a life of constant movement and constant searching I fear. She must have read something in my face or my eyes because she told me that she will miss me and that she hopes I realize that I can always go back.
But is there any real going back?
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