je suis un bébé requin,
and this is a photo journal of a previous life.
mercredi 23 mars 2011
Birthday gateau

Libellés :

lundi 14 mars 2011
My Last Goodbyes
Recipe of love.

10 Potatoes
10 Echalottes
1 Demi Poulet
Sel, Poivre to taste.

enjoy with family and friends.

Hey yann,

I am coming back on the train now from Angouleme, catching the 16h24 to Monparnasse, and then changing to Strasbourg. You know, i dont even care that people see me cry anymore. I tried to hide it before, but i am crying so much now, i feel bare without tears on my cheeks.

Antoine took me in for the weekend. I would like to say i had such a good weekend, but that doesn't mean i wasn't sad that you weren't there. your group of friends are some of the nicest guys i have ever met, no jokes. You are so lucky to have had a bunch of friends like them: Antoine, quatre-neuf, Loic Mimi, Loic Duj, Le Jar, Paul et Xav.

When I got off the train on Friday night, my feet wouldn't move from under me as i dragged myself off that train. I stood on the platform for a few minutes, breathing heavily, knowing that you weren't there to see me. that you weren't there to meet me anymore. That feeling was one of emptiness, one that i don't want to ever experience again Yann. For awhile, i didn't even want to go and visit your tomb you know, I wanted to throw up on that station, then turn around, and go all the way back to Strasbourg, but i knew that wouldn't accomplish anything. I told myself to get on with it, but my body just didn't want to. It was so difficult to go to a station that i usually met YOU at. It was so hard to know that i was going, but i was going, to say goodbye to you.

I finally met Antoine though, and it was good to see a friendly face, to know that other people knew how i felt. This weekend, Antoine's family were so wonderful to me. Antoine had cooked me a home made dinner, ready for my late arrival, 22h15 on a friday night; veal in a creamy mushroom sauce with diced potatoes. His hospitability was incredible, and i know that you would have said that he went over the top for me. A creamy mushroom sauce. (I know!! I thought the same thing when i saw it.) Do you remember that weekend last year, when we were in oleron? All we ate were crepes... for the entire weekend, imagine when i saw This meal then!) That afternoon, he had sent me a message telling me he was going to cook me dinner, and i wondered what a french 23 year old male was going to, wait no, COULD cook.

His parents (and Jar's too) are into Bio cuisine, non genetically modified foods... but i am sure that you know that. His mum showed me what purple garlic is, her ceramic collection, told me why you shouldn't buy carrots from the supermarket, and explained why she bought meat from the seller himself. His dad gave me a bottle of home made apple juice (that i forgot at his house), and showed me all the work that he had done around the pool area. His family really are incredible.

The next day we went to visit your grave. That was definitely difficult. Especially seeing as i knew i was standing so close to you, but you were buried underneath me, and i couldn't see your face, i couldn't say hello... I had to finally face that you were gone... for good. Actually being at that site was so emotionless. Your gravestone hadn't been finished, all that was there was cement. I left the letter i had written to you, at antoine's house. I am so sorry that i didn't put i on your grave, but antoine told me that next time he goes to visit, he'd put it on the side, so you Will get to read it, don't worry.

Afterwards, we went to the beach, that one that you took me and Jen to last year, and we kicked a ball around on the sand. Then,, we went to le Chateau, and saw where you went camping with your boys in 2005. I am glad i was there to listen to their stories about you, and all the fun that you had that year.

That night, we had dinner at Jar's house. Have you seen the photo of him when you walk up the stairs of his house? I am not joking when i tell you it is the funniest primary photo that i have ever seen. I know you'd agree. He is wearing Urkle glasses, and has the cheesiest grin i have ever seen, slapped across his face. What a goofy looking boy. We ordered in pizzas, and at them together; Antoine, Duj, Jar and myself. We were watching some awful tv program at the same time, and i know you would have screamed to turn it off, that it was complete trash, but you're probably right. Even if it was hilarious.

Afterwards, we played a round of time is up. I am going to take that back to strasbourg to play with the girls. I know you would like that. (Just so that i remember for later, i am going to explain it back to you. I know that you would be grinning at me and all of my mistakes as i try to explain this to you. Alright, so, before the game starts, everybody gets 5 pieces of paper, and writes down the names of 5 well known people on them. Then, all the pieces of paper are put in a bowl as you're split into teams. There are 4 rounds, each of which gets harder.The first round, you have 30 seconds to explain to your team mates who the person is, without saying their name. The aim is to try and get through as many people as possible in that time. The second round, you can only say one word to explain the person. The third round, you use actions, but have 45 seconds, and the last round, you use only one pose. That made me smile, because your boys pronounce english names in such a funny way. Uma Thurmann.. Angelina Jolie.

Afterwards, we all trekked back to Antoine's house (which is hardly down the road like he made it out. It is about 20 minutes away. Oh, d'être dans la compagne. We played Loup Garou from midnight until 5am in the morning. I laughed at their innocence, at the fact that they could be so entertained by a game that takes 10 minutes to play... for literally hours on end. I know if you were there, you would have enjoyed the game just as much as them; Cupidon, Loup Garou, Villagois, Sorcerière, Voyant, (The wood cutter, Coulleur?) et la Petite Fille.. & le narreteur. Oh yann, such a simple game. I love your friends so much.

Last night, neuf-quatre stayed over, and Antoine, his family and the both of us all at lunch together. (Oh, the pommes de terres, the poulet, the poisson and the legumes: carottes, poivreaux, echalottes... maïs, haricots rouge, salade... ils cuisinent comme des bêtes, je rigole pas, vraiment... c'était vachement bon.)

Yann, I know that if you were here, you'd tell me not to cry, to "bouge mon boule". That life goes on.
You were someone that loved to party, as neuf-quatre said, you take everything as it comes, and que t'as profité de la vie. I know you can't understand my letters when i write in english, but if you were here, you know well and true that i would sit there and talk to you, that I wouldn't need to write, that i would translate all this to you.

I know you want me to stop crying, to smile, to be happy, but please, just let me cry a little bit more. I miss you so much, and your friends this weekend reminded me just how great you are. How close you are as a group. If you saw me, saw the state of me, you'd hit me on the back, and tell me that i was stupid, to stop being so sad.

You know, I laughed a little inside, when i met antoine at the station, and again when neuf-quatre dropped me off. I wanted to hug them and tell them how much they reminded me of you. I wanted to tell them that i had missed them, that i will miss them until i see them next time... but as per usual, we did as the french do, and gave a kiss on the cheek. When i went to hugged them, they were surprised and tensed up... they didn't know how to hug back, as usual, which made me chuckle.. I know you would have hugged me, you know what you're supposed to do!! and i miss that so much.

Yann, they do exactly like you. All weekend, they corrected my french when i mispronouced a word, or when i struggled with a sentence, they would help me with the words. I tried to ask them what a stove top was, and that took absolutely ages. This afternoon after lunch, you know, they even sat down and helped me with my french homework over some fancy teas that Antoine's mum had bought, and tonnes and tonnes of dark chocolate that his dad likes.

Of course i miss you, but i am going to be strong. Your friends remind me of you so much Yann. That makes me smile inside. It is getting easier each day, and now that i have been able to spend a weekend with them, without you, i am so happy to be saying my last goodbyes, to know i have met some absolutely fabulous new friends.

I miss you so much, and i don't think i can ever come to terms with what happened, but your friends are now mine, and i have met boys that remind me so much of you, and remet some others, like mignon. (I haven't seen him since troisieme! How times change.)

This weekend, when i listened to Rap, Reggae and Ragga, when i sat with these boys... that weren't trying to get something out of me, from my english.. that didn't mind just talking... when i was just hanging out with your friends... i felt so at home, so at ease. Your friends are so great, just like you, and i can definitely see why you all got along so well.

Antoine told me that he, Mimi and neuf-quatre spoke at your funeral. I am so sorry i wasn't there, i am sorry that i wasn't one of those 150 that got to say their last goodbyes that day. You know, this afternoon, I asked what neuf-quart did during the weekend, and he said he always used to go out with you in La Rochelle. Now, what is he going to do during the weekends. He no longer has any potes to go out with on the weekend in La Rochelle. Yann, I am going to try and be such a good friends to your friends. Neuf-Quatre told me that he can't go out anymore. Everytime he goes to a bar, to a pub, he thinks of you, and that hurts. I know how he feels. You taught me french, and it is so hard to say something without thinking of you. Yann, i remember when i went back to australia, you wrote me an email, and when i replied, you'd told me how much i had lost my french. I don't want it to be a gaspillage. I don't want to have learnt all of this for nothing, but you know well and true that it is going to take some time before i can speak french without thinking of you. He told me i can talk to him whenever i want, about you. He gave me his email and everything. You would have bagged him out so much the way he did it. I wish you were there to have seen it.

You know, Antoine and Duj are moving out at the end of March. They've found an apartment in South Angouleme together. I want to send them a housewarming gift. Their first present by mail. Wouldn't that be cool? I am going to put some vegimite in, and some other cool strasbourgie things. That will be cool.

Yann, thankyou for everything that you have taught me, that you have shown to me. You were such a good friend, and not even this letter can express how much i am going to miss you. This weekend, i took photos of all of the boys, to add to my wall back in Strasbourg. I took a photo of you too. I hope you don't mind. Your boys will remind me of you, when i look at them.

You know, you were so gross with long hair and yellowed fingers from all the tobacco you smoked. You lived in a boat and made your own alcohol: rum with strange mixtures. honey, walnuts, coffee beans. You blew fire, you were kind and patient. I am going to miss you so, so much. Not only is it hard to speak french anymore without thinking of you, but every day i wake up and try to hold my tears back.

It is getting easier, it is. Yann, i am going to miss you so much, don't forget that mister. This letter is one of hope, of smiles and happiness, because i know that is what you want. I am not hurt anymore, but can smile because i now know the friends that you left behind, because i have so many happy memories with you, and because i know you don't want me to cry anymore.

Love you,

forever, and a few days on top of that.



Sud Ouest

Voile Poitou Charentes
Nous avons la tristesse de vous faire part du décès de Yann B---.
Yann, après sa formation Brevet d'Etat Voile à La Rochelle a encadré dans plusieurs clubs du département et a, en 2010, contribué au développement de la Voile Itinérante avec le CDV17, en y apportant toute l'énergie, la motivation , le savoir-faire et la bonne humeur qui le caractérisaient.
Il était unanimement apprécié de tous, nous souhaitons lui manifester une dernière fois la preuve de notre sympathie.

L'équipe du CDV17
vendredi 11 mars 2011
My kicks are trashed.

Libellés : ,

last fall

off to Oleron. Bon weekend!

Is it strange that i am dolling myself up for a dead man
mercredi 9 mars 2011
and if i can't decide what paper?

Dear Yann,

Do you know what happened today? I walked into a shop to buy a card for your parents, and there was an elderly couple next to me. They were shuffling through the cards half heartedly, as though they had done this so many times already this year.

The cards themselves were so ugly. I know that if you were here, you would have laughed at them. You would have said that no one would ever want to receive a card like that... that they were so ugly. That made me laugh, really laugh, for the first time in days... i know if i sent that card, and you were still alive, you would have mocked your mum for receiving a card like that. You would have said that it was tacky and that there was no point receiving cards like that.

The prints were of trees, of awful paintings, and of 80's disasters. I moved onto the next shop. I felt like there was no card that could express the way i feel. No card could tell your parents just how sorry i am that you're gone.

I know that if you were still here, you wouldn't want me to send a card like that to your family. You would say that you weren't like that. That i shouldn't send stupid things like that, but the fact is, you're not. The fact is, that i have to send a ugly card, a card with no feeling, because you Aren't here, Yann, you're not here at all.

I went to 4 different shops just to find some nice paper... even in the end though, they didn't have paper that you would have liked. Then i had to decide what kind of envelope to send it to you in. That made me upset all over again. Would your parents be offended if i sent a bright pink envelope, or would it make them too sad if i sent them a light green one. I'm not going to surprise you. I will tell you straight up, i got you a light blue one, with some of the only writing paper that is available in Strasbourg, i promise it is the nicest one i could find.

You know, it was the thing i had to look forward to most today, finding you a card and paper, but 2 hours later, i was so disheartened i spewed off the side of a road in a rubbish bin, and just settled for one. I'm sorry, i couldn't stand looking at anymore awful cards or paper shops. That's just not me.

... I spent hours in the make-up section today, buying things to get my mind off you. Do you know that? I even have to go back and buy hair dye so that i can feel just a little bit good about coming to visit you.

I forgot to buy it when i was there, which frustrates me even more, because i will have to go and see people again. Walk past people laughing in the street. Pretend to smile to people. I wanted to go shopping with someone. Then i went through a list of everyone i would have messaged, and i didn't want to spend time with any of them. I love spending time with people. What is wrong with me now.

Even as i write this, i don't believe that you're dead. You know that, right?

Yann, i look at people that have lost parents, grandparents, others. They seem to be happy. Does this mean that i will be happy again one day?

Yours truly,

Libellés :

mardi 8 mars 2011
The Letter.
Dear Yann,

Before i tell you any of this, just remember, you are the one that is supposed to correct my letters, I am not supposed to be writing one to your parents...

Yours truly.

when you write a letter to the one you love, to their parents, what are you supposed to say?

Any mere condolence letter must feel so distant, no words can express the feelings that you have.

I was told to write what comes to mind, but do they feel the same way i do?

What if they didn't get along.

What if you feel guilty that you didn't go to their funeral, but their parents were able to make it.

The tears will start to flow again, that is what will happen.

When you read layouts of what a letter should sound like, it has no emotion, no feelings, just "deepest sympathies". What does that even mean.

And so i will write.

Dear Corine and Francis,

I write to you with a shaken heart, and to extend the deepest condolences on Yann's death. [**Even as i write that he is dead, i don't believe it, i feel sick at the feeling.] He was a dear friend of mine, and he is going to be deeply missed. You both should be so proud to have had him as a son.

I am so blessed to have had such a friendship with him, and i know he is going to be greatly missed by his friends and family.

I treasured his friendship, and will forever recall our time together in Ruelle and Oleron. I remember the first time i met him in 2004, when we became great friends. We would play cards together, and he taught me so much about the french language and culture. He was so generous to me, introducing me to his friends, taking me to the movies, ice skating.
When i came back to Australia, we kept in contact, and then i came on exchange to France again last year, I was blessed to be able to spend time with him in Oleron.

It is a strange feeling to know that we will never hear his voice again, be able to talk to him again, but all we can do is remember the fun times that were shared. It is surreal to think that someone could be there one day, and instantaneously gone the next. I am glad to have been able to have met him and shared such a great friendship with him.

I am glad to hear that he was buried on the Island of Oleron that he loved so much, so that even now, he will be able to enjoy the sun and sea.

If you would like me to do anything, please let me know. I want to help out if i can.

My very best to you and your family in this time of sorrow,



Chers Francis et Corine,

Je vous ecris avec le coeur boulversé, je tiens à vous presenter ainsi qu'à vos proches, mes sincères condoléances. Yann était un très bon ami. Il va profondément me manquer. Vous devez être fiers d'avoir eu un fils comme lui.

Je suis vraiment contente d'avoir eu une telle amitié avec Yann, et je sais bien qu'il sera énormement remémoré par sa famille et ses amies. J'ai chéri son amitié et me souviendrai toujours de notre temps ensemble à Ruelle et Oléron. Je me souviens notre première rencontre en 2004, quand nous sommes devenus amis. Nous avons joué aux cartes ensemble, et j'ai appris beaucoup de choses de la langue française, et de votre culture. Il était tellement généreux avec moi: il me presentait ses amies, nous allions au cinéma, et à la patinoire ensemble.

Quand je suis repartie en Australie, nous avions gardé contact, alors l'année dernière, quand je suis revenue en echange en France, je fus très heureuse de passer du temps avec lui.

C'est un sensation étrange de savoir qu'on ne se reverra plus, je le garderai toujours en mèmoire. C'est surréel d'imaginer qu'un ami est là un jour, et on le perd le lendemain. Encore, je suis contente d'avoir fait sa connaissance et d'avais partagé une grande amitié avec lui.

Ça me fais plaisir d'entendre qu'il a été enterré dans l'île d'Oléron qu'il aimait vraiment, il pourra encore apprécier le soleil et la plage.

Je vous embrasse. Transmets mes amitiés à Natacha et Gwenael.


Libellés :

I don't want to see your tomb.
Dear Yann,

I don't want to see your tomb.
Then i will know it is all so real.
Your friends asked me to come down and visit you this weekend you know.
I told them i would, but i don't really want to.
As soon as i see that name engraved on that stone, it will become reality, a reality i don't want.
They told me that they have said their goodbyes, but i haven't.
I didn't throw a rose on top of your casque. I didn't write you a letter, and throw it in so that you could read it forever, so this is what i am going to to make up for it.
I hope you read my letter, i hope you enjoy it.
I am going to find something nice to give to you, i promise.

This is what you were supposed to come and visit.

yours truly,

Libellés :

Neutral Milk Hotel
Jeff, Scott, Julian, Jeremy... you know exactly how i am feeling: In an aeroplane over the sea.

I will say goodbye to you soon, i am just not ready.

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun
What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me
Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me

And one day we will die
And our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea
But for now we are young
Let us lay in the sun
And count every beautiful thing we can see
Love to be
In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me

Anna's ghost all around
Hear her voice as it's rolling and ringing through me
Soft and sweet
How the notes all bend and reach above the trees

Now how I remember you
How I would push my fingers through
Your mouth to make those muscles move
That made your voice so smooth and sweet
And now we keep where we don't know
All secrets sleep in winter clothes
With one you loved so long ago
Now he don't even know his name

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun
And when we meet on a cloud
I'll be laughing out loud
I'll be laughing with everyone I see
Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all

Libellés :

lundi 7 mars 2011
I'm not laughing.
Just tell me one last thing, would you prefer that i forget you?
'Cos i don't want to.
I would prefer to lay in the sun with you,
looking out into the ocean.
whisper into my ear,
hold me close.
You could be the one i love,
but you're no longer here.
My stomach is in knots.
My head is spinning.

tell me that it is a dream,
that i will wake up,
lulling in and out of consciousness,
and you will be there to wake me.

You had a beautiful face,
you understood me.
We laughed about things nobody else knew.
We shared secrets,
whispering in each others ears.

I don't feel like being happy anymore.
People all say that we all must die one day.
But was this your time?
You were someone that i knew and loved.

I am angry at you.
Why were you on your phone.
Why were you not wearing your seat belt.
Why were you not concentrating,
not holding the steering wheel properly.
Whatever you did,
I hate you for it.

You're supposed to be here with me.
supposed to have visited.
Seen my house.
to laugh and sing together.

You know i was practising French,
just to impress you.
Now i drag myself to classes.
French is everywhere.
Everywhere is you.
Your name,

We are young,
this wasn't your time.
Be here with me.
Take your shoes off and roll into bed with me.

Life is a strange thing.
I could call you whenever i wanted, but i didnt.
i didn't take enough photos.
have enough memories.
there just wasn't enough time.

This is too surreal to me.
I want sleep to lap over me,
I don't believe this.
It is a dream.
I will never see your face again,
Your smile.

You were so sweet to me.
Like no one i have met.
I have to write a letter to your parents.
Send them my condolences.
But how am i supposed to do that.
Give me the words to say, wont you?

Everytime i close my eyes, i see you.
This is too surreal for me.
I want to go home to Australia now.
There is too much that reminds me of you.

Every sentence that comes out of someone's mouth is a reminder.

I remember when your family watched la vie est belle
and you hated that show
c'était de la merde.
And then I'd ask you questions, and you would reply simply...
je sais rien.
I hate that you remind me of everything.

I am trying to be happy,
Really, i am.
i am not crying anymore.
I try to smile.
but it pains me to be happy.

I would prefer you to be here.

You were a sweet 23.
When you fell into the water.
No one saw, no one heard.
I will never know what you were doing.
Someone tell me that they made a mistake.
That it was someone else that they had found.
Now, I can never wish you a happy birthday again.
Nor will i receive a joyeux anniv.

Eat with me.
Dance with me.
You were my age.
I never thought that someone i know would leave.
But I am coming to terms.

When we meet again,
I will embrace you.
I will tell you how much i have missed you.
How good it is to see you again,
and we will dance in the clouds.
We will swing our hands around.
You will wrap your hands around me once again.
Brush my hair back,
and tell me a joke.

Ghosts will pass us,
We will not care.
We are going to go to some non earthly place.
And stay there for the day.

The muscles in my legs and face are weak.
Walking up the stairs feels like 100 years now.
dragging myself out of the room is difficult.
Life goes on though, doesn't it?

This place that i have made for myself here,
was supposed to be yours.
I decorated the walls and doors.
You were supposed to come and tell me,
how much you liked it.

I never got to see your bedroom in Saintes.
Now, i never will.
I'm not laughing anymore.

It scares me that i will never feel your touch again,
Your stupid jokes,
Your grammar corrections,
Or simply your voice.

come home to me, please.

Libellés :

My First Love.

I met my first love in the summer of 2004-2005. The first time i met him, he asked if i wanted dinner, he talked about far away lands of America, and how he would have done things different if he ran the country.

He made me fall in love with me. It wasn't anyone's fault. We went to the movies, the first french movie i watched at the cinema: Ocean's 12. We went ice skating with his friends, and laughed together all the time. I taught him things about Australia, and I learnt things about France.

In the last days of my travels to france, he surprised me with a card and a small teddy bear, and a personal joke inside. I thought he was the most romantic person i had ever met, but what was i to know, i was young.

I felt as though i had learnt to really love someone for the first time, and when i came home from the distant land of France, I promised i would return one day to love him once again.

Things fizzled out gradually, just as long distant relationships do... We sent a few emails, keeping each other up to date, and chatting on the internet from time to time. I would send him french essays to correct, and he told me how he had become a sailing instructor for young kids.

By the time i had hit university, the degree i had chosen, entailed me to pick a country. I was throwing up between France and Italy, in the back of my head, i would go back to this far away land, and love him once more, but at the same time, i was realistic, and knew that that first love, was from many years before that. I ended up choosing France anyway, as i had already came so far learning the language and culture.

In late 2009, I was told that i would be spending a year abroad in the city of Strasbourg, in the east of France. I was not that excited, as my preferences had been Bordeaux, Lyon, and Strasbourg, in that order, Bordeaux was of course, closer to him. By the luck of the draw, I was given Strasbourg, and i guess it was a sign.

On arrival, i was surprised at how much i loved strasbourg, at the hidden gem that i had found. I didn't think i would have as much fun as i did last year, and with that, i decided to stay another 6 months in Strasbourg.

Last year, for my first love's 22nd birthday, he invited me and a few of his friends down to his holiday house in Oleron. I took 10 hours of trains to get there, and i was so excited to see him. A friend of his picked me up from Angouleme, and we travelled down together in the car, to Oleron. I had curled my hair, prettied my face up and was shaking terribly when i met him again for the first time in years. He said to me:

"It's been so long, i am glad to see you, what's it been 5 years?"

and i felt like i was falling for him all over again. At the same time, i knew it was nostalgia of previous times, but all the same, i looked up to him and feelings came rushing over me all over again.

We had the weekend of our lives, doing simple things: making crepes, playing cards, watching TV and just talking about life. On the train home, i wrote pages about the weekend, and remembered how much i used to love him.

Just before the summer holidays, i invited a friend to come and hang out in Oleron with me and my first love. She accepted, and although the weather was awful all weekend, we enjoyed pizza and fries inside the house, and snuggled in bed watching movies. The last movie i ever watched with him was Food Inc.

We went to the beach, his favourite place, and found some carts to play around on. He taught me how to sail, and that afternoon, we went for a ride out on his boat.

We had such a great time together, and he said he promised he would visit me back in Strasbourg, seeing as i was there for another 6 months.

He kissed me for the last time at 5am, seeing me off on a train back to Strasbourg.

In late january, he told me he was going to visit me, but was held up in Lyon for the weekend, so we promised to make plans for later on in the year.

On the 17th February, he told me that he would be passing by Troyes, a city that was apparently close to me, to pick up some boats for his club. I looked it up, and Troyes was closer to Paris, than it was, Strasbourg. I mentioned that to him, yet he promised he would be visiting me anyway, and to have my phone on me. That was 3 weeks ago. That was the last time i spoke to him.

On sunday morning, i had just arrived back from the snow from the week with my friends, and had received a few emails from friends that i had met through First Love, saying to contact them asap. I gave them my phone number, thinking that they were all going to finally come to Strasbourg for the weekend, and i was a little sad, as they had sent those emails on the Thursday and Friday, and i would have missed them, as the weekend was over.

One of his friends, Le Jar, finally got in contact with me on the Sunday afternoon, at about midday. When he told me who it was, two things went through my head,
1. they might be organising a surprise party for First Love, but that was impossible, his birthday is the 19th January
2. he's dead.

Both were probably wrong, but as i listened to what Jar had to say, my stomach felt sick. "Francie, i have some news about Yann. He was driving home from La Rochelle to Oleron on Tuesday night, and crashed. He is now dead"

At that time, i was sitting in a room surrounded by friends, and i didn't know what to do. We were supposed to go out to Lunch, but i excused myself, and took a long walk home.

That afternoon, i sat by the river and wept. I was in shock, and i just wanted to cry my heart out. Cry 'til my eyes wouldn't provide me with anymore tears. Cry until he came back to life. Through my tears, I wrote a letter to him, but i knew he wasn't going to get it. I wrote, asking him to come back, to tell me that everyone was lying. That really, he was driving up to see me at that very moment, but i knew it wasn't true.

When i arrived home, i had received an email from First Love's sister.

"Sorry to tell you by the facebook way but we didn't have any other way to contact you.
Wednesday morning we learned a terrible news, Yann died.

He had a car accident and felt into the harbour of LA ROCHELLE with his car at 2 am. Nobody has heard him, so the policemen discovered him into the sea a few hours later ( at around 11 am).

We made the funeral yesterday. He has been buried at Grand-Village (Oleron Island).

C'etait pas sur une route mais sur un parking à coté du port. Il a perdu le contrôle de sa voiture qui est tombée dans l'eau. C'était la nuit, personne ne l'a vu ni entendu, il s'est noyé...

Best regards


Last night, i cried myself to sleep, and listened to Do You Remember by Jack Johnson. I held my pillow tight, pretending that he was there with me.

Today, i wrote him an email, knowing that he wasn't going to receive it. I called his mobile again and again, just to listen to his voice one more time on voice mail.

I know that everyone has a time to die, but i felt like i was still supposed to have time with him. He was supposed to visit me, we were supposed to go out and have fun together for the weekend. We were supposed to climb the Cathedrale of Strasbourg, and have a fancy lunch together.

I think about the friends that knew him better than i did, that spent years getting to know him. I have only known him for 6 years, but for those that knew him better than me, i wonder how they are coping. Are they writing through tears, on their blogs too? Are they being men, and trying to hold composure, or are they simply denying the fact that they too, will never be able to see him again.

Now, i feel guilty enjoying things, i look at food, and it makes me feel sick, i feel weak, and shudder at people laughing. I wonder if anyone has ever been this sad, whether people can relate to this pain i am feeling.
Someone, please, hide me under the covers, and warm my heart up again.

This is a dream, isn't it? Someone, tell me this is a dream. I am sure that it is. I don't, wont, can't, believe it.
I will learn to laugh again, to smile again, but you will always have a piece of me.

My first love will always hold a place in my heart.

Now i ask myself, how something that he loved so much, was his demise. He lived for sailing, for the water, for the beach, yet when it came down to it, this was the natural disaster that killed him.

These photos are the last ones i took with him, June 2010.

Yann, my first love, i am sorry i didn't know about your funeral. I am sorry that i didn't live closer to you last year, and this.
I am sorry for not hanging out with you more, for not dying in that car with you. I hope that one day, it is all a dream, and that i wake up and you're alive, lying next to me. You will stroke my hair, and tell me that it was all just a bad dream.
Rest in Peace, in Oleron, the Island that you loved so much, surrounded by the sounds of the sea, and sand that will warm your toes.

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