Tuesday, September 16, 2008


Back in the student life, or sort of. Moved all I needed back in the flat, moved the flat around a lot, and now am in Marseille.
Rico got here yesterday and I'm so fucking confused.
Rico is a scottish friend I met three years ago on an exchange program me, the best friend, foufounette and other friends participated in. Last time I saw him was a year ago, when I went to Scotland.
I've always had a soft spot the size of an iceberg for him. It used to be the same with him. And it's damn painful to know that it's over.
I seriously miss the way things used to be. I don't know if it's because of him I didn't manage to have a half-assed serious relationship for years; it's a possibility. the same went for him. he hasn't had a proper girlfriend in forever. And i get so jealous when I know he does have someone, which is weird because I'm never jealous. Ever.
It might be the inaccessibility, which says a lot about my mental state (shitty).
But I always have a thing for guys that aren't french.
I don't know if it's the roots striving to come out, saying "you're not fucking French, stop getting it on with French dudes!"
Seriously, I cheated with a Hungarian dancer, and the best lays of my life were Scottish and Canadian. Does it mean anything? I don't know.
But I always feel i connect with english-speaking guys on another level. A part of me the French just cannot get.
It's just...the English parts of me have been so ridden over during the years, years of only speaking French except at home, being the only Brit of my age in a town of 20 000 people, not even having anglophone mates at uni, except for Prince Charming, that I guess that when it all come out...it goes badly.
I went to Scotland four times in five years. It's a place I really love, and it's the place that reconciled me with being a Brit, because growing up I found it kinda difficult.
Some of my best memories are there. And now a whole part of that has just disappeared. No wonder I'm lost, I guess.
I don't know if it's the same for other people. I don't know anyone who's been through the same thing. My flatmate has been through some of the same stuff, cause she's Belgian, and lived in italy from her birth to her fifteenth, but it's not quite the same because she's hardly ever been to Belgium, and came here a lot later than I did. I was five. When I first got here I just wanted to go home. now I'm very grateful that my parents came here, but it's made me somewhat messed-up. Totally messed-up, some would say.
I'm such an in-between person. Not really British, except for what it says on my passport, I lack most of Britain's cultural references, at least on the TV side, since I practically only read in English, I don't understand a good part of what the country is doingto itself, I don't understand all the knife stories and the shyness of the guys and the weird ways of the girls. I don't understand the way they dress, I don't share an insular mentality cause I'm from the continent, I'm just lost in these things.
Not really French, because it's always been made very clear to me that I was a foreigner. Maybe it was harder for me because I'm not visibly foreign, unlike my mother who speaks with "such a cute" english accent and has blue eyes and really fair skin. Unlike my brother who inherited the blond, tall northern genes. And different from my father too, although he comes from two foreign cultures but was born and bred in Paris.
Not really French because I'm just not. I can't imagine saying "I'm French" as I could have, and still could if I applied for French nationality. But that would mean giving up my other nationalities, and I can't; physically can't.
I wish someone could share experiences on this stuff, but as I said, I don't know anyone who could; my flatmate is already a great help. Nationality is one of our recurrent conversation subjects, and one we never find a solution to, except "I'm not French". Although she's a lot closer, being Belgian, but still.
I'm not French. And it affects me in strange ways.

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