Another morning in France. Our time is running out and I’m trying my best to stay positive, motivated and upbeat. Releasing that blog yesterday was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write. I’ve been so afraid of what people would say that I forgot about myself. But the support from you all has been overwhelming and Edouard and I have been very happy to read your comments and messages.

It makes me excited for my future. I know it will be bright. I know I’ll have adventures. I know what I want to do and how I’ll get there. Sort of. I’ll never stop trying. I always said I would give up with Papageno when she was sinking beneath me. I never predicted that I would be the one who was sinking and not my boat.

And so, she is now available for someone to carry on her story. Her advertisement is at https://earlewrites.com/amelforsale/ I know it’s fast, but I hope to sell her within the next two weeks. I need to come home.

It is with sadness that I let her go. I return to her next Sunday and I will be working very hard to get her in ship shape for whoever would like to make her their new home. With Edouard leaving for his new beginnings in Marseille, I feel the urgency to move back to England even stronger.

I need good ol’ Blighty to strengthen my spirit again.

Laura is still on Papageno, has made new friends and is enjoying herself before her mother arrives so they can have some time together. Laura has been an absolute rock to me and encouraged me to get my arse over to Europe to get some closure. I’m glad she did.

And as Edouard and I figure all of this out together, we know that going forwards is the only way. It’s the only way if we ever hope to find each other again.

I’m very scared to carry on without him. Without his strength and his love. Just what will it feel to be alone again? That comfort blanket of warmth pulled from my shoulders, leaving me to shiver in the real world. It’ll be just me. I remember the moment of when he left me on Delos in Ascension Island. That moment of feeling loved and watching him leave, not knowing whether I would see him again, not knowing whether I would feel that warmth around my heart once more. Hoping. Dreaming. Yearning.

But it’s time Elizabeth carried on. It’s time I rebuilt my strength and did this for myself. To walk my own path. To be strong.

But I sometimes feel that is all I’ve been trying to be the past few months. Be strong. Carry the project. Reassure everyone. Fight back the haters. Laugh. Cry. And then do it all again the next morning. Papageno has taught me more about myself than anything else I have ever done. She has taught me perseverance and how far I can be pushed.

She has broken me and put me back together, making me into something other than what I was before. I don’t recognise the Elizabeth before Delos. I don’t recognise the Lizbef before Papageno. All I know is what I am now. Is that what this is? A constant evolution? A constant changing like the sea, ever unpredictable?

Whatever way the sea is pushing me, I’m going to go with it, with love in my heart and determination in my belly. The rivers of England are calling me, and somewhere in Warwickshire in a narrowboat waiting to take me into the belly of Britain. And I’ll answer their call.

Because my story isn’t over yet.

It’s only just begun.

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