Ensemble, c'est tout ou mes jours d'été.

Every summer has a story. And this one is not an exception. Perhaps it is the most extraordinary one. For me at least. One will always make a mistake trying to imagine life somewhere over the hundreds of rainbows. An alien, becoming a Jersey girl would never have thought that she would find new friends,new feelings, new smells, colours, new life.
Just one autumn decision turned her life upside down. But it gave her so much... An experience as the adults call it. Experience. Such a dry and cold word for a chain of important moments! Just remeber bike ridings in the broiling sun and you trying to absorb every ray with all your body, or those rainy days when you got wet and was ready to curse everything but you kept on pedaling and kept on laighing...
She liked to walk barefoot along the seashore and to sink in her thoughts. At those moments only seagulls and lonely waves could be her company.
At times she prefered to stay in the smoked-up balcony and meet the sunset with a cig between her scratched fingers. But the minutes of solitude changed into the the evenings of total joy round the table. So called 'computer club' as the translator-girl named it. Sometimes the Jersey girl went to the board walk to see the entertainment lights, the Ferris wheel of all the kings and all the queens. And she'll hardly ever forget those maple syrup breakfasts, Sunday lunches and marshmallow dinners.
My lord! She was in New York of course! In that big-big apple. In the place where one can feel lost, lonely and happy among thousands of people. She spent there one windy day, a rainy night, peaceful morning and a scorching noon. The girl tried to take up, to swallow the smell of the subway, fresh coffee, fumes and emerald grass. And those yellow cabs, commercial lights, crowds of goody morning runners will always be in her mind.
There is one more thing to remeber...Probably, the essential one. Cerrainly, the Jersey girl needs a Jersey guy. Someone she would adore and wait for standing on the Jersey shore.A young Syracuse plein de force et de soleil. Everything was unusual about him, his smile, his touches were foreign no matter that he was one of her kind. She would be happy just to love him and plunge in this infatuation. But allas! Yes, it would be so easy to stay together and to whisper, "nous sommes ensemble et c'est tout."
But she had to preetnd to be strong and indiffernt, to tear him away from her heart, soul, mind. The distance between them was bigger than kilometers. It was the distance between her imagination and reality. That's why it was his eyes sparkling with tears on the station...not hers.
Maybe she'd better to run up to him, to wind her hands round his neck, to kiss his eyes full of tears and say, "STAY!" Mais non. The pouring raing took and hid him in the night.
Now she does not care. She can only say, "I need to be alone. I need to ponder my despair in seclusion; I need the sunshine and the paving stones of the streets without companions, without conversation face to face with myself, with only the music of my heart for company...Just to recall those jours d'été you gave me..."