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Texted my dude like 5 minutes ago to see if he wants to go see the movie he wanted to see but was sold out the last time we went. Meaning “I understand your needs and wants too, I just ❤ you soo much!” And waiting for a response. Trying not to get defensively mad “What the hell, a whole 10 minute wait for you to respond while you are engaged in gainful employment?!?!” or “OMG, he doesn’t really like me that much, he’s getting freaked out…I should have just played hard to get…”

Helas. Such is life. But now, to comfort myself, I’m trying to think about the journey and not the destination. C’est a dire, love is present in my life now, whether he’s “The One” (Does that really exist….) or not.

[Heavens, maybe he’s just not attached to his phone when he’s at work…]

trying to believe that every step, whether it is awkward or graceful, is leading me little by little to a better incarnation of love. Whether it is with him, or somebody else, or even just for a fun afternoon with myself (I am damn fun, and sometimes I have to go to the movies by myself to prove it).

That said, in full disclosure, there’s a lot to be said for waiting for the right moment, if such a thing exist. Putting the other person first, and your best foot forward, includes not making him uncomfortable, letting things develop. O so slowly!  It’s only been a month though, look at me. Gagagaga over him, secretly. I just want to cuddle goddarnit!  Who the hell am I? No it doesn’t seem to be about deep conversations, shared principles or religion (yet?), going to see the latest cultural attractions. It seems to be about warmth, which does seem to have a little something to do with proximity. Body heat, at least. Maybe not passion, and maybe not genuine emotion. But all those things take time and care.

And maybe also, the right moment.  And we don’t know when that’s going to be.

I feel like when you’re single (I guess I’m kind of counting myself in a couple and hope I’m not jinxing myself there) you think of love as this perfect confection that’s just cotton candy and marzipan and everything in the right place at the right time. In a way, gorgeously predictable, a mimetic masterpiece realizing all your fondest dreams and hopes of romance.

But really, love is a little bit stop and go, sometimes stuck in the traffic of every day life. Sometimes taking a picnic instead of pushing onward onward onward.  Sometimes it just loses its way for a while… and I don’t think that stops when you’ve found a person, the right person or not.  Because humans just aren’t candy coated.

Some are sweeter than others.

Please, honey, text me back!

Reassure me! If you can’t tell I’m really feeling something here and I want you to validate me….In my perfect world this is a phrase that would never need to me said. But my perfect world is pretty solipsistic and doesn’t actually include another human.  And i suppose these phrases show just how vulnerable I am, just how afraid of heartache, no matter what I’ve endured in the past or how independent I try to tell myself I am!

I am, dammit!

But I don’t want to be, forever. Inner strength, yes.  Trying to be an island, no. But maybe I need to reconnect to my secret place, since it’s not fair to this dude to turn to him for validation.

After all, he’s at work now, right?

Ugh!

Of course I need to write down every single one of these thoughts and share them with you. Dissect how silly, and how petty, and how human some of them are. Try to pump up my ego with how clever I am in English, btws.

You feel so far but I’m probably just being oversensitive.

And I’m leaving in a month. I still don’t know how I feel about that, nor, I suspect, do you. I know a part of me wants you to try to spend every waking minute with me, pampering me, promising you’ll be there even after I’ve gone. A part of me doesn’t know yet, for sure, and don’t blame you either.  I just don’t want you to clam up now. Please be brave for me, please live in this moment- whether we are a go or not.

Whether you are the one or not, and this is the beginning and not the end, if this is just the beginning of a new chapter of our love or the hopefully wonderful crescendo of a beautiful season spent together (o please don’t hide on me, o please don’t let this get somehow ugly, cowardly, you just acting like another dude who know’s I’m going to leave) God, I hope it will be a well-lived moment. I hope we will both find the courage to feel, if there is something to feel. I hope it’s not about clinging to the first good thing that’s happened in a long time, the romantic melancholy longing for something that’s just not fated, despite my attempts to stay in Paris (not meant to be), I hope we live this moment well.

And whatever happens, I’ll look back on what I’m writing and smile.

No, mon coeur, whether you are the one or not, that’s not something we can know or plan for. We don’t know if I’m coming back to Paris, or if you’ll be staying there either. There’s so little we know (not to mention all the petty jealous things I think sometimes), and it’s helpful to remember that it’s probably going to be a little messy, a little fearful and anxiety inducing. Maybe it doesn’t have to be though we are only human after all.

Maybe we can just live forward and face the future without fearing it, without wishing for what might have been, without trying to stop the journey prematurely, without holding on too long to the past.

My love, my love, please respond.

Maybe you would think I’m soo silly if you read this, maybe you would think I’m insane, or we just don’t have that much in common because you don’t navel gaze to the same extent. Hell, you are an engineer.

My love, my love.

 

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