We'd met up for brunch at a placed called H.A.N.D. near the Comédie Française and I was feeling the pull. The slow, backing up, distancing, about to bolt in the other direction pull. Instead of kissing me as he usually did he didn't even bise me. The date felt more platonic and stiff than it ever has, and then he asked me if it would be ok if he left the Tuileries, where we were stationed, because he was meeting a buddy to run at 5. I said sure.
He walked me home and pecked me emotionlessly then left.
I didn't know where I'd gone wrong.
* * *
As he'd walked me home that afternoon, we'd passed the Musée d'Orsay and I'd mentioned wanting to go there with me sometime. I shot him an email on Monday to give him the schedule of all Parisian museums open at night, the days and times.
When he shot me a message back saying he was busy this week, he was sorry, I'd had it. Since the start of September, he'd been playing the busy game with me and I was pissed.
I finally blew a gasket on him on Tuesday when I told him I needed to talk to him. I then explained that if he wasn't going to give me the time of day, we wouldn't work, that I couldn't start a relationship without getting to know someone, and how did he expect me to get to know him if I didn't spend time with him?
He asked to talk to me face to face on Friday evening.
* * *
Near dusk on the avenue de Breteuil, we met up to chat. I'd been on a roller coaster all week...from lividly angry to sad back to pissed and all over and in between. I asked how his week went.
He signed his contract.
Teaching was good.
But he had to be honest and open with me in saying that he understood why I wanted more, why it was normal after three months to want more in a relationship from him, but that he's just not in a position to do it right now.
Excuse or not?
He still wants to see me, but doesn't want to lie and promise me more when I clearly want more and deserve more.
But in true Lindsay fashion, I don't much want to see anyone else. I explained to him that I think it would be stupid to just drop this thing instead of rolling with the punches and seeing what happens, though I told him very clearly that I know if I do this I run the risk of getting hurt.
¨I was going to get there, but you forced me to play my hand,¨ he said.
¨I forced it because if I didn't know what it was and didn't have the ability to know what it was and make my own choice depending, I know I'll get hurt.¨
He then went off about how in France, ambiguity is more tolerated...it's not like America where we need to know, after a certain period of time, black or white, what ¨this thing is.¨ I replied that while I know this, while I respect it and know it about his culture, that I am--and as hard as I might ever fight not to be--at the core, due to my childhood, my education, my parents, my principles, everything that makes me me--still in many ways American.
But American rules don't apply here.
I know what I deserve and I know what I'm worth. (All I can hear, Frank, is your voice telling me not to ever settle or sell myself for bargain basement price.). But what if the one person I think might actually finally deserve me is being honest and open and truly not an asshole about his ability to make a more serious commitment right now?
American rules don't apply here.
In retrospect, I can see how desperately I have tried to make them apply: when I returned from the islands and nannying last summer, E said to me almost nearly the same thing.
¨I like you, I want to keep seeing you, but there's another person, and it's not fair to you...¨
Then I did the American thing, told him I needed things black or white, and with the nod of a head and a few words from his mouth, things were settled.
I think about FWB and how things were so ambiguous for so long and how I, so much head over heels for him and falling so, so terribly hard, came on too strong, forced his hand...to the point where he ended things.
¨You want more and you deserve someone here in Paris, who can give you the time...I can't.¨
You were much kinder hearted and fairer than I thought you at the time, FWB. I did not give you the credit, did not stop to think that perhaps this ambiguity thing is cultural, that American rules do not apply here.
Then there's This One: ¨ Nothing has changed between you and I. I still like you, I still want to see you, I'm still attached to you. But there are days I miss you and then there are days I'm so stressed that I can't even think of missing you. If you want more and you need more in a relationship right now, you'll have to find it elsewhere. I should have told you this sooner. I was going to tell you this weekend but you weren't patient enough to let me get there....this doesn't mean we're over, it just means we have to roll with the punches and see where this goes.¨
I told him that for me, that would be running a risk. I told him why. I told him why I was so afraid of it and terrified to give him the chance. ( And I can hear you Frank telling me he doesn't perhaps deserve the chance ).
This One told me I freaked him out. I told him why he freaked me out. Then I thought about how maybe I was coming on too strong. Goddam it, why do I do this? ( Yes, Natalie and Bill. I probs was / am coming on strong. But I've picked it up quicker this time and am nipping it fast. And with all do respect, I've made some improvements: no where near as fast as with FWB!)
¨ You have to understand, you're in France. American rules don't apply here. Things are not cut and dry. Just because I didn't tell you I wanted to see you again doesn't mean I don't want to see you again. I do. ¨ He added.
American rules don't apply here.
And this is the part where I look back on every thing I have done this past year in this particular realm of my life and wonder how in the world I f*cked it up by trying to apply American rules and American woman know-how.
Is it too late to do a 180? Put the car in reverse and just go?
That whole American thing of ¨if he doesn't try and see you all the time he's just not that into you¨ doesn't work. Out the door, out of the question.
There is no rulebook, he added.
Which is both liberating and terrifying.
American rules don't apply here.
¨ I'm sorry I freaked you out.
¨ I'm sorry I freaked you out.
So I figured I'll leave him be. I'll see him again if he wants to, with no particular effort made to see him. I'll give him his space. If I meet other people, it won't stop me from seeing them.
And then in tradition French way, in traditional French fashion, maybe he'll come running.
But if he doesn't, I won't be heartbroken. I'm stronger than this.
I texted him after. Said I was sorry for the misunderstanding and glad things were clear now, because all I need is honesty and clarity so I can make my decisions with as much information at hand as possible. He too said he was relieved to have had the convo, that it was heavy to keep things blurry between us.
I responded with: ¨ I don't want things to be heavy, I want to have fun with you...like this summer. I really liked that, and I really like you. It's that simple. You know where to find me...bonne soirée.¨
Because in all reality, it is that simple. Boy likes girl, girl likes boy. Things will evolve as they evolve, in their own way and in their own manner. Why apply an arbitrary set of rules to different stages and places and whatever you may have its as they evolve on their own organically?
The American rules, at least, don't apply here.
It's only taken me three years of being in this country to figure that one out.
I responded with: ¨ I don't want things to be heavy, I want to have fun with you...like this summer. I really liked that, and I really like you. It's that simple. You know where to find me...bonne soirée.¨
Because in all reality, it is that simple. Boy likes girl, girl likes boy. Things will evolve as they evolve, in their own way and in their own manner. Why apply an arbitrary set of rules to different stages and places and whatever you may have its as they evolve on their own organically?
The American rules, at least, don't apply here.
It's only taken me three years of being in this country to figure that one out.
Most of the time I feel like those rules don't even apply in America anymore. Oh, boys...
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