...we arrived back in Brussels, with two overloaded cars. I felt completely and utterly lost. We had just left our Barbizon-home, Fonty and all of our INSEAD-friends. I had lost the safety and security of healthy parents. I was about to loose my own little apartment as P and I were looking for a place big enough for both of us. All my belongings were or in boxes, or at my parents, or at P’s home, or simply lost. And I was still stuck with a job I didn’t want to go back to. It was hell. It was the beginning of the end. I fought for a few more months, but then it was over&out.
Looking back on last year’s summer, I can only be happy that it’s somewhere in the past. It can’t be undone, it’s still very present in my memory and the scars are still there. But life is much nicer to me now. And I’m much nicer to life as well.
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