Day One hundred and forty two - Le vent nous portera

It's now September 2009 before I see Silvia again. We were always in touch, that never ceased to be a constant at that time. And we agreed that we needed a conversation in person, and so for the one and only time, Silvia actually visited me. Well, she came to be with me for a weekend or so. And things were... different. I'd previsoulsy mentioned a weird metamorphosis that had started to happen for us, and it was now reaching its full bloom : she had become me, and I had become her. And I say this in the sense that I was the needy, emotional, clingy one now, whereas she was distant and cold. Somehow, where we started and where we ended up, we became what the other one was. Silvia was becoming... harsh. Her silences had grown deeper, more violent. Sometimes - not very often, though - it felt like there was some hostility behind her silences. But here's the sad thing : we still loved each other. We were still crazy for each other. And yet... pretty much else had gone. We only had that love, now. And I hoped that it would, in and of itself, be enough to save us. 

That time she spent in me was good for us, at least for a little bit, but there were some difficult bits. Silvia resisted to the idea of us having another go at, well, us. It took some talking, and courting, and sexing, but we'd agree on another shot. So for a the remainder of my time in London I'd sometimes get on a plane to Geneva, and spend my weekends with her. There were no further visits from her, though. And while we were managing to keep things smooth at a distance, and while the times we had together were largely good, things weren't perfect. They weren't ideal. And by christmas 2009 I'd decided that would be leaving London to go back home early the following year. I'd had enough of this city I loved, I was lonely there, I felt miserable all the time, and I needed to go back home. I had informed Silvia of my decision, and really, the distance would still be there anyways. It was as easy  for me to get on a plane to go see her bach home as it was in London. Not very long after I'd returned, though, one of Silvia's ex's died, and she had to come here for the funeral. I knew very little about that whole story between them, but I did know that Silvia held him in high regard, and the whole ordeal was hard on her. I wasn't with her for that part - I had no place being there, really - but soon after I went to visit her in Geneva so I could give her my support in person. For quite a large part of 2010, there was distance punctuated by an occasional trip to Geneve to be with Silvia, and pretty much that was it. But the end was fast approaching, though we'd still give it one final shot at it.