When I was a child, I loved being watched by my parents. Playing, baking, doing my homework, coming back home, eating at the table with them.
Their gaze made me feel precious and interesting and special.
I never lived alone. When I left my parent’s home, it was to settle with my boyfriend and finish my studies in the big city. The studies kept me busy for two years, but when they ended, and before I got a job, I realized something terrible.
I didn’t know what to do of myself in the flat when I was alone. Nobody was watching and I felt shapeless, like gas without a container to tell it what it was.
My partner was at work during the day. A growing feeling of misery seeped into me through every pore. Lire la suite