The Fall Out

I remember sitting at a café in Paris and hearing the sentence : 

“This is not working. You’ve changed.” 

And just like that, it was the end of of an era.

———

I had been living in Paris for a few months, freshly landed from the South, and I was still very attached to all my friends. I loved them. 

There was C., who was incredibly smart, loving, and who was the center of the group, the organizer, the heart and soul and also my very best friend. 

There was M., to this day probably the most hilarious man I have ever met.

There was S., who was kind, soft, spiritual.

We were ten, fifteen like that - all contributing in our way to make our little group an absolutely lovely friendship affair.

We all lived in Marseille. 

We would have long summer apéritifs, these typical Southern ones where everybody is invited and tables are drawn together and nothing is planned yet everything is perfect.

We would go to Sormiou, the beautiful private cove where C., a true Marseillaise, had a bungalow the size of a post…