Meanwhile, The World Goes On

By Bree Turner

I don’t recall the moment I stopped loving you.

It wasn’t a single fight or betrayal we couldn’t recover from. It happened slowly, over years. Tiny cracks formed in the foundation we’d built of butterflies and firsts, and tensions we’d survived. We learned to live with the comfortable banality of routine. You became my everything—my counsel, my entertainment, my pleasure. You were always there.

In time, your voice started to grate. Belly laughs turned to titters. We were on autopilot, and I began to shut down. I just wanted to sleep.

In my waking hours, my eyes started to wander. I wanted to touch, taste, feel, see something else. A new horizon.

I didn’t want to watch the same TV shows on endless repeat.
Are you still watching?

I didn’t want to scroll through strangers’ lives thinking: I should be doing that. I want that. Are they really that happy?

We were on the same side, you and I—we both wanted to feel seen and heard—but there was something impenetrable between us. And if I could reach through it and hold you, maybe we could both feel like we were enough. But I stopped wanting to.

I just wanted to switch off.

Late Summer

9 September, 2022 (shared Google doc journal with Georgie)

Bree to Georgie:

Have you listened to Renaissance? I’ve been playing it almost every day since it came out.

George, if someone asked you, “Are you happy?” how would you take it? It’s a yes or no question, but kind of biased. It assumes you’re unhappy, or they’re concerned that you are. I got hit with it again today. I told her the question felt hostile.

Sometimes I am unhappy, of course, but happiness isn’t a sustainable state. Today, this week, I feel like life is taking a positive turn. A little relief. So I’m holding onto that.

10 September, 2022 (shared Google doc journal with Georgie)

Bree to Georgie:

We picked up salad ingredients, a rotisserie chicken, potato gratin with truffles, and bought meringues from Aux Merveilleux—one of every flavour.

It was raining, but we left the windows open. The smell of rain was better than the smell of the apartment. Orange light was melting out of heavy clouds as the sun set over the city. We drank red wine and she told us that she wanted to change her life, but felt scared and overwhelmed. I quoted Robin Sharma: Don’t live the same year 75 times and call it a life.

I don’t want to live the same day over and over.

Autumn

9 October, 2022 (shared Google doc journal with Georgie)

Bree to Georgie:

I booked tickets for five events as part of Melbourne Digital Fringe. I’m so happy to be able to watch some performances remotely. I had a goal of seeing 12 shows this year and I’ve been a little unsure of how to access ones in English over here, or at least see performances that have English subtitles or where language isn’t essential. I’ve seen some, but they’re quite expensive. Tickets for the digital events cost me $28 AUD total, so I’m happy.

Winter

Morning, 4 January, 2023 (shared Google doc journal with Georgie)

Bree to Georgie:

We had dinner with friends at Le Cadoret last night. It’s one of our favourites. I have so much on my mind and feel like a fraud pretending everything is normal. Dinner felt normal. I even enjoyed myself. I just wish I felt certain and good all the time. I’m going to talk to him tonight, I’m scared. My body is in pain, I have a headache, chest and back ache, and a funny tummy. I haven’t slept properly for days.

Night, 4 January, 2023 (shared Google doc journal with Georgie)

Bree to Georgie:

💔

6 January 2023 (shared Google doc journal with Georgie)

Bree to Georgie:

We broke up. He’ll fly home soon. I’ll stay. I’m really scared.

29 January 2023 (shared Google doc journal with Georgie)

Bree to Georgie:

Untethered in Paris. Surviving on 5 euro beers and complementary fries.

I’m neglecting practical things, work, job search, writing, but it’s been nice reconnecting with my body. Everything about this messy, precious tomb is fascinating to me again.

Francois said I never talked much about my body or sex life when I was in a relationship. I told him it felt private, something I needed to protect. I don’t feel that way anymore, because it’s just mine.

16 February 2023 (shared Google doc journal with Georgie)

Bree to Georgie: We went to the Habibi, les révolutions de l’amour exhibition, then walked along the Seine until we could see the Eiffel Tower. Drank beer out of plastic cups and watched the sun set. She told me she wanted to see my apartment.

Spring

5 April 2023 (shared Google doc journal with Georgie)

Bree to Georgie:

George, I met an angel last night. Her name is Divya, and she might have just changed the trajectory of my life. We met in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, close to her work. I met her through one of Lani’s connections.

She was effortlessly cool. You know those rare people who look you in the eye and you feel like they’ve already decided to root for you? That was her. She told me about the freelance visa which I hadn’t heard of before. An entirely new horizon has opened up. I’d been quietly carrying around this knot of worry about how to stay here, and she just untangled it.She talked about her own life here, projects, people, places, and I kept thinking, This is what I want. Paris. Not glamorous in the movie way, but alive.