All Chapters of The obsessive fascination: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

  Sometimes I tell myself that love is like flowers, it's stunning at the beginning, and over time, this beauty gives way to decadence. Love can sometimes be misleading, and we no longer recognize it. It's like it never existed. I don't know if Paul noticed that his hands were no longer producing the same effect on me, that my body was no longer electrifying at the slightest second. Sometimes, I tell myself that we should take the time to sit down around a table together, even if it means putting a vase overflowing with fresh roses just like things were at the start of our flame, to encourage us, to tell us that everything can go back but do I want to?     I met Paul at a party. It's a pretty mundane place. I

Forget me. Imagine you've never met me. Put me in the drawer of your memories—both the good and the bad. It doesn't matter the slightest. Ignore the existence of our story. You won't find anything extraordinary there anyway. See me as if I were a speck of dust. It's not very bad but what is it for? It ruins the landscape.In fact, no, why put me down in this mishap? Why should I still feel guilty for asking you to erase what connects us? You told me that the two of us " would be forever." I now remain deaf to this form of blackmail. Yes, that's blackmail, Paul. What the hell did you imagine? That you could continue to own my body and soul until the end of time? You are very selfish, let me tell you. Are you only aware of my own desires? No, I am correcting myself—my absence of lust. When you approach me, I see myself as a little girl on a merry-go-round. My mother insist

No, I wasn't expecting it. Of course, I had noticed this slightly lost gaze of his. How else could it have been? He reminded me of a teenager who was after a girl's phone number at all costs. I had anticipated everything but that! When will I finally drop my hypocrisy? When will I realize that Paul and I have been together for more than 8 years and after such a long time spent together, we need something else than a plain 'good morning' each time we wake up.  And last night, I can't help but shudder when I think about it. I really think I felt his hands caress my chest. With a soft and light hand, yes. But had I invited him to? Carole doesn't understand me. I have what she does not have and what she would like to have. Nocturnal caresses, little atte

A glance at my watch shows me that it is 8:37 a.m. What precision! That is at least one thing I had in common with Paul. This consideration for detail and clarity. It is still early, and I feel good in the almost deserted streets. I believe in a possible second life for me. I want to believe in it, and I tell myself that at 38, everything can be rebuilt. We destroy houses to make them more beautiful. I, too, am entitled to it. I want to break with this old life. I end up making a long list of desires: dancing salsa half-naked, drinking hot chocolate in an Egyptian pyramid, making love in the ruins of a castle, sleeping in a field of flowers, bathing in a frozen Swedish lake … I love my freedom, and thanks to it, I start planning simple things. I begin to think about what I would like to do in the future now that I no longer feel doomed. I'm ashamed. It bothers me to speak like a former inmate. It's so unfair to Paul. He's probably asleep at this hour, or he's dreaming of bot

 I would like to throw the phone in a trash can and run away, but again, that would prove my cowardice. I have to face Paul, tell him that the words left in the kitchen were telling the truth. He will be in pain. It will make me cry because deep down, I know he's the loser in this game.My phone is ringing once more. Why is Paul insisting? He still hasn't understood? I thought I was clear, though. I knew he was head over heels with me, but now it clearly seems like I have lived with a lunatic. What if he's a psychopath? I'm afraid he'll blackmail me and starts talking about suicide!And here we go again, at this simple thought, I just can't help it! Tears come to tickle my eyes. I feel like a little girl deprived of a snack when everyone is eating in front of me. Making Paul suffer tortures me and he doesn't know anything about it. He has no idea that I am in front of Agn&