I never talked about the impact England had on my life. Never thought that the biggest but also the most hurtful, the sweetest yet the most acid, the most beautiful but also the ugliest phase of my life will be linked to a citizen of this specific and unique country. Never thought that this English love would turn out to be too spicy to handle and too intense to resist. It felt like a blow of holy colors, an spirale of guilty pleasures, platonic talks, passionate looks, endless calls, full-bodied kisses. 

I never thought if at some point I would actually want to marry someone or even think about having kids. Yet I found myself answering positively these two questions. I found myself answering that it doesn’t matter if he won’t be that rich. After all this is why I got my degree: to be independent and be able to share my life with someone I love.

That platform, this train leaving for London… I used to hate it deep inside every time you would leave. But then your wife’s and your beautiful kids’ photo would strike my mind reminding me that I am just an option. Until I ended up believing your words. Until you asked me that day whether I would be ok with you paying 60% of your salary would go on family allowance. 

Until that day, I forced myself not to forget that I was just your Parisian option. That day I actually accepted your proposal. That day I seriously considered having a future with you. I guess I have to forgive myself for being so naive. 

When that day I ran to meet you at Gare du Nord station, I knew it was the last time. It was the longest kiss I ever had. The most intense and the most acid. It was so much love and yet so much acid pain that even my tears could not fully translate. I knew already that It was going to be hell to forget you, that it was going to be hell to stop loving you, that it was going to be mentally demolishing to alternate from love to hate until eventually one day I would feel neutral. Until eventually I get over you. Either by myself or thanks to someone whose love is going to be so powerful that it will just smash out yours. 

Regardless of how this story will end, England, India and Paris will always hold a very special and touching place in my heart. Gare du Nord…This station will always remind me of this last heartbreaking kiss. What doesn’t kill you should only make you stronger, not acid, not resentful, not weak. For life is too beautiful and too short for destructive acidity. For yes this love was too spicy and quite burning towards the end. But this is life … Sometimes it costs you some bruises and heart burns to rise from the ashes and be ready to face the world. Unapologetically. 

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