First, a recap.
Back when I visited Paris in the spring, the company that I rented the apartment from was kind enough to send a representative to let me in and show me the apartment.
It was a normally routine part of visiting Paris that ended up affecting me profoundly.
You see, they sent this French girl to greet me, and I didn’t know what to think. But I did know that I wanted to know more. She left me her cell phone number, which I agonized over for a few days, then finally called her. While I was on the verge of a mental breakdown, she called me back. After which we enjoyed a couple of long walks. We genuinely had a great time together.
But, she has a boyfriend, and I’m—well—obviously, it’s complicated. She ended up leaving Paris while I was here, but we kept in touch through emails and Facebook chats, even while I was back in the US.
It’s confusing. I’m years older than her, she’s attached, I’m midst-divorce. We’re from different countries and speak different languages.
But there is an amazing, genuine connection there that I can’t quite figure out. Something.
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Now, I’m back in Paris, and she lives in another part of the country. We’ve checked in from time to time with some short emails.
But last week she came up to Paris. and although she was only here for two days, and she has many, many friends here, she still wanted to see me. Regardless of anything else, I find that supremely fascinating and I am truly touched by it.
However, I was also a little worried. We really don’t know each other very well and only saw each other in person three times. The last time was over six months ago.
Was it going to be strange at all? Would we still have anything in common? Was she even cute or interesting or was I simply in a daze after landing in Paris?
All of that quickly faded away after we met again. It was almost like we picked up right where we left off. She was as I remember her.
Funny, charming, beautiful. And yes, still with her boyfriend.
We met at 5pm and went to a museum to see an expo she was excited to see. Just the two of us. We spent about an hour and a half there, and thoroughly enjoyed the exhibit although we spent a lot of time talking about our lives the last few months.
What’s she’s been up to, our families, travel, work, everything. It’s just incredibly natural. Despite somewhat of a language barrier (she speaks fairly good English), we understand each other. We laugh far more together than I do with anyone else.*
We left the museum and spoke some poor French (well, I spoke poor French), and then stopped at a Cafe and had a bottle of wine. We talked, laughed, and just had a great time. She was meeting another friend later but I walked with her to meet the friend across town. I ended up joining her and her friend (another girl) for another bottle of wine and dinner.
I left her at around 11pm and walked home.
It was wonderful to see her again and rekindle that friendship.
She even texted me when I got home. She wanted to let me know that it was good to see me and that she had a great time. We exchanged some texts for another forty-five minutes before I went to sleep.
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Tonight, I sit in my apartment and wonder. Now what?
* Except for my soon-to-be ex-wife.