Douce France (Another solution will present itself)

Inexorably, my contract comes to an end. I had good time indeed, I did not appreciate it fully. Oh, especially this car trip around the north and the Loire Valley was cute. With my husband and his steady Arabian love. We always appreciate things as soon as they are gone. 
I think about packing, remove my old clothing, books, etc. It is a time of a great removal indeed, a time of simplifying things. Of getting rid. And I am happy to say that in this work, I am clearly on the opposite shore. 
They say Tusk is back, the hope is back for my country. I don't believe in such things. Would a single man, coming back from Brussels, change the civilizational belonging of an entire nation? (oh, that ugly Huntington is back, too). History is more complex than that. My dear ex-colleague from University of Warsaw, prof. Środa, says that we should not put up with it, this return of the patriarch. Not to put up? I wonder how she imagines it, this "not putting up". Well, in fact, I did not put up. I am the best example. When they are in all that, I'm just having sex. I've had a lot of good quality sex lately. I'm just reading books, writing my things, and last but not least, a very great deal of musing. Of just being here. Enjoying my last days in Paris. Putting my French right, finally.
Meanwhile, as I see glimpses and reminiscences of the people I left on the other shore, it becomes even more clear to me to what a degree the present regime is consubstantial with them, to what a degree all what happened is a fulfilment of their way of thinking, of their innermost mental order, of the deepest, the most hidden desires of their hearts. Perhaps if an entire invasion of Tusken raiders... Only such things can effectively change the course of History. But not just a solitary old man coming back from Brussels, mentally standing out so clearly in relation to the rest, speaking as if beyond what is their cursory logic. They say he is not coming back riding a white horse; I say he would better come back riding a bantha. 
My Moroccan lover asks me what I will do next. I don't know. I feel big trust, like in Star Wars, when Obi-Wan Kenobi says, with such an infinite trust: Another solution will present itself.