On a mission in Paris

I was convinced that our love was ironclad. In my mind we defied the confines of race; mine Black, his white. The con­straints of religion didn’t stand a chance; mine Christian, his Jewish. Our nationalities and cultures were a second thought; I an American-Jamaican woman from the Bronx and he a French-Jewish-Algerian man from Paris. We created a deep bond despite an ocean physically separating us and a six-hour time difference dictating how often we were able to speak to each other in real time; overcoming those obstacles strengthened and solidified our desire to build a life with each other. It was us against the world and we would move through life’s ups and downs with ease and grace, together. thedailybeast

Solitamente ci si innamora di un uomo innanzitutto. Poi del suo modo di essere e di vivere. Delle cose in comune.

In questa storia manca l'uomo. Appare piuttosto come un pretesto per trovare se stessa o una schema di vita fatto di atmosfere e sogni.

L'abbandono ha un suo lato positivo nella ricerca delle motivazioni. In questa storia è solo un modo per lagnarsi ad alta voce.

Momento Surkov.