Cojones
"Hey can you chat?"
The IM flashes on my computer this afternoon. It is 3:30 in New York, 9:30 in Paris. This is when we usually chat after she has put her daughter to sleep, but I have not communicated with Fabienne in months.
"5 mins pls" I hastily reply. I have workmates in my office. I don't want to talk with her when they are there.
I finally break away 15 mins later. We chat. Her angel is happy and healthy, but she has recently broken up with her boyfriend of six months. In spite of his initial pronouncements to her, he reared away from commitment. She claims that she is now 'immunized' from desire and is not interested in men, not interested in reactivating that desire.
We've been talking for a while about meeting, about getting away to Spain or Italy for a weekend to just be together. She brings this up and asks why I want to meet her again, what do I want of her.
"Nothing" I reply, "you are in Paris with your daughter, and I am in New York with my son. Neither of us is going to leave her child"
"True" she says then tells me the story of this story she once read about a woman who had a recurring annual rendezvous with a married man. "That appealed to me." She said "Maybe we can live that life."
This makes me think of Dara…her grandmother had this multi-decade long affair with a married man who lived in France while she lived a whole hemisphere away. They met every year for their own rendezvous. Mmm. Maybe this is a French thing.
I ask her about relationships, about monogamy, about affairs. I get frustrated with the IM chat so I call her. I learn that she had only had one relationship where she did not have an affair – when she was 20.
I tell her about Dara, about our blowup, about my desire for a deep trusting relationship with her and also about my pursuit fun, fleeting frolics with others.
"I don't know why they say you have to have cojones to be bold" she says in a Madeleine Albright-esque fashion. "Every man I have ever had a conversation with about life is too fucking chicken to say what he wants. Often he doesn't even know what he wants." Mmm, has she been reading my blog, I wonder.
"Find out what you want" she says. "If you want this woman you need to call her to talk about your relationship. And, as we say in France, 'not over a cup of coffee', call her and say you want to meet for dinner.
"I have found that it is all about rules" she continues. "The rules don't have to be mutual, and, as you found out this week with the Dara situation, you don't always have to know about the rules before had. If you want her, as you say you do, then talk to her about what you really want, and find out if that is aligned with what she wants. But if you want her you need to call. The ball is in your court."
Truer words have never been spoken.
The IM flashes on my computer this afternoon. It is 3:30 in New York, 9:30 in Paris. This is when we usually chat after she has put her daughter to sleep, but I have not communicated with Fabienne in months.
"5 mins pls" I hastily reply. I have workmates in my office. I don't want to talk with her when they are there.
I finally break away 15 mins later. We chat. Her angel is happy and healthy, but she has recently broken up with her boyfriend of six months. In spite of his initial pronouncements to her, he reared away from commitment. She claims that she is now 'immunized' from desire and is not interested in men, not interested in reactivating that desire.
We've been talking for a while about meeting, about getting away to Spain or Italy for a weekend to just be together. She brings this up and asks why I want to meet her again, what do I want of her.
"Nothing" I reply, "you are in Paris with your daughter, and I am in New York with my son. Neither of us is going to leave her child"
"True" she says then tells me the story of this story she once read about a woman who had a recurring annual rendezvous with a married man. "That appealed to me." She said "Maybe we can live that life."
This makes me think of Dara…her grandmother had this multi-decade long affair with a married man who lived in France while she lived a whole hemisphere away. They met every year for their own rendezvous. Mmm. Maybe this is a French thing.
I ask her about relationships, about monogamy, about affairs. I get frustrated with the IM chat so I call her. I learn that she had only had one relationship where she did not have an affair – when she was 20.
I tell her about Dara, about our blowup, about my desire for a deep trusting relationship with her and also about my pursuit fun, fleeting frolics with others.
"I don't know why they say you have to have cojones to be bold" she says in a Madeleine Albright-esque fashion. "Every man I have ever had a conversation with about life is too fucking chicken to say what he wants. Often he doesn't even know what he wants." Mmm, has she been reading my blog, I wonder.
"Find out what you want" she says. "If you want this woman you need to call her to talk about your relationship. And, as we say in France, 'not over a cup of coffee', call her and say you want to meet for dinner.
"I have found that it is all about rules" she continues. "The rules don't have to be mutual, and, as you found out this week with the Dara situation, you don't always have to know about the rules before had. If you want her, as you say you do, then talk to her about what you really want, and find out if that is aligned with what she wants. But if you want her you need to call. The ball is in your court."
Truer words have never been spoken.
posted by SagaciousDemon at 12:15 AM
