Together
I'm in Lyon and my heart is full. And not wonky, so that's good. I wanted to note some of the wonderful, love-sourced acts JM has done/is doing to make this visit just...both normal and surreal. (Surreal for me who is not used to being cared for.)
Got to the train station early, texted me that he was counting the seconds until my train pulled in.
Train pulls in, I come down the platform stairs, he's there in a lovely pink shirt, slacks, nice winter coat. My god this man is handsome.
A million kisses, we don't care what the others think.
I cry a bit because...I'm so so happy to see and hold him.
We go back to his new place where he is nervous because he wants me to love it. It's nice---a temporary furnished place for professionals so everything is top quality. He is looking to buy a place once the divorce finances are settled (his ex bought his share of their old house).
He undresses me and we make love. It was great, especially because the last time we were together was a month ago. How amazing it is to make love with a man I love.
We leave to go to this huge mall. JM hates malls and never did any shoppng during his marriage (he and his ex had very traditional roles; something that drove him crazy as he never had a say in anything) but I'm happy because I love a new mall. I don't wander, however, as I'm not that annoying girlfriend. Yet. He is here to buy a TV (check) and get a few groceries to complete the menus he has created for our long weekend: Raclette, risotto, salmon, some kind of vegetable gratin and I can't remember what else. He is very concerned about impressing me with his apartment and his cooking skills. I'm overwhelmed.
We remarked that we are already like an old married couple, going to Darty (and applicance store) to buy a huge, flat-screen TV followed by grocery shopping. We like this.
I am struck by a memory I had the day that my ex dumped me. We were having friends for dinner that night and for once, FOR ONCE, my ex went with me to the grocery store. In 10 years he only went with me about 5 times; like most things, I did the grocery shopping alone. Anyway, on that Saturday we were in the grocery store and my ex walked 5 meters in front of me, never aligning his pace with mine or even looking at me. And I saw all the other couples, hand in hand or just synching with each other as they examined coffees or talked about which fruit to buy. It was so incredibly sad and stressful for me to know I was putting up with unacceptable behavior. It was heart-breaking for me to see all these other Saturday couples strolling, and there I was, behind my ex who obviously did not love, or even like me enough to want to stay near me. When did he start hating me? I have no idea. But it had been a long while since he even looked at me.
But with JM, we went through that mall hand in hand, or arms around each other's waists, stopping for kisses, checking in on what type of lettuce we'd like, did I want tea since I was getting a cold?, and let's pick up some more of this or that. Even though the mall was overheated and crowded with obnoxious teenagers, it was really a lovely, normal, and common-to-couples experience. These are the things that make me tear up now, and mystify JM because "hey girl, I'm just being normal."
We head home, put up the groceries, and go back to bed to make love again. Around 9 pm we get up, JM begins the dinner prep, and eventually we sit down to a really wonderful raclette and good exchange of ideas.
Back to bed and for the first time in 10 years...I spend the entire night next to a man I love. When we first went out to Verneuil I could not get used to sleeping next to him and left our common bed for one of the spare bedrooms. For this trip, I had told JM I was determined to learn to sleep next to a man for the entire night because I did not want to miss out what I remembered, before my ex, to be a wonderful experience: going to sleep and waking up in the arms of someone I love deeply.
My ex and I never spent a whole night together. We would fuck and then he'd go downstairs to fall asleep in front of the TV, coming back to one of the spare bedrooms to finish his night. "You'll just kick me out because I snore" he justified. But it wasn't that, or only that. It was that we had zero intimacy, the kind you need to fall asleep easily, feeling safe and feeling loved. This, JM gives me. Over and over again. Phil never made me feel safe enough to fall asleep next to him.
The next day JM went to work and I left for Starbucks to get on their WiFi (not yet set up at JM's flat) and do my own work. He had reserved lunch for us at one of Lyon's gastronomical meat restaurants and gave me instructions on how to take the metro there. He was waiting for me at the metro exit and told me he had missed me that morning. Is that something in my eye? No, just holding back more tears. How long will it take for me to get used to hearing warm, loving and kind statements? This was just not part of Phil's vocabulary.
Lyon is known for being ground-zero for culinary experiences in France, and this restaurant did not disappoint. The butchers work behind a plate glass window so you can see your cut being prepared before your eyes. JM, being so courteous and generous, asked if that bothered me; he would give me the seat where you don't see the hanging slabs of beef. No, I'm not uncomfortable with that at all. I had a steak with the most delicious morilles mushroom cream sauce and gratin dauphinois which was more cream than potatoes. Definitely not heart-healthy. I only ate about a quarter of it all but man oh man it was really sublime.
We walked a bit after lunch and then he returned to L'Oreal and I to Starbucks to continue working on my freelance project.
Met back at his apartment after work where we went back to bed for another session of love making. Then dinner: salmon and creamed spinach (to balance the lunch excess; JM was fantastic with his menu-planning) but not too much cream. Wonderful artisanal cheeses and bread for dessert.
The next morning we woke up, made love again, spent time talking over breakfast, had a delicious lunch (chicken cutlets, the rest of the spinach, more cheese and breads) and left for the Da Vinci exhibit that he had purchased tickets for us.
Fantastic visit, hand in hand, through the museum space, a former sugar processing plant (Lyon has done an excellent job with their urban renewal projects, making docklands into hipster venus and pricey apartment buildings). I was touched because JM, a scientist, is not a museum kind of guy, but he wanted to find an activity that we both would enjoy so he selected this exhibit since of course da Vinci incorporated a lot of physics into his inventions. I loved listening to JM's explanations of why and how. Another layer of love deepens.
We walked around the docks, then took a tram to the Place Bellecour where we had hot chocolate (me) and fruit juice (him). How nice it is to be with a man who takes excellent care of his health. No smoking. No alcohol. Runs every morning. And of course lots of L'Oreal products in his house so his skin is like a baby's. (I don't like that he looks younger than me. And dating a man whose skin is better than my own? Grrrrr.) We pull out our calendars to review our train tickets/visits through the end of the year: JM to Paris (and Normandy) the remaining weekends of November, me to Lyon most weekends in December, and of course post Christmas through January 4th. I'm again overwhelmed at his proactive nature of making sure we see each other often and not leave travel to chance. We are each other's priority. Another thing: since I have to board Jesse (my dog) when I travel to see him, he immediately offers to contribute to that expense as well as my train tickets. My god. What a good, fair, ethical and moral man. He is what I have always deserved.
From the Place Bellecour we cross one of Lyon's rivers (I think it was the Rhone) and go into Old Town. By now it is nighttime. Everything was illuminated and so delicate and pretty: the bridges arching over the ribbon of water, the St Jean cathedral, the small lights running up the hill to the Fourviére Basilica. There's a honey store; we buy some Corsican honey that tastes like cinnamon and lime tree leaves. I will leave it at his flat for my breakfasts.
We take the metro back home where JM prepares a risotto that knocks my socks off. He makes a small steak to serve with it but really, just the velvety, cheesy, gooey risotto would have been enough.
He tidies up the dishes and we return to bed. More lovemaking, a lovely combination of naughtiness and tenderness.
Sunday is my last day and we stay in bed a long time. Finally I get up, shower, dress, do my little suitcase and go out to get fresh bread while JM makes lunch: a gratin of small, goat-cheese filled raviolis and zuchinni. While I'm out I snap some pictures of the amazing mid-century modern architecture in his neighborhood. I want to remember everything, even though I know I will be coming back time and time again.
Lunch is eaten, tidied, and we make love a last time (not in bed, but in his bathroom, where I had been fixing my makeup and brushing my hair and where he casually entered and could not resist unzipping my dress as he watched me prepare for my departure. I love the passion that comes with new love. May it last. I will make sure it does.)
And then there was this: a key. His key. Given to me because of course I should have it. No ceremony, no "please don't read anything into this" which was what Phil said to me when he gave me the key to his place "in case he lost his." His key because we have the kind of love and trust and emotional intimacy that make a key exchange a natural outcome to all this.
I have so many feelings. I still go into a state of disbelief that this man loves me this much. He is such a good human being and a good man. No, I'm not putting him on a pedestal. He's got personality traits that annoy me: he is very fastidious, a natural part of being a scientist, I think. Everything is very clean and in its place in his house and I am careful not to be a slob or leave stuff everywhere, which I can do. But I'd rather have a Felix Unger (for those old enough to understand that reference) than an Oscar Madison for a boyfriend. He is more obsessed with health and keeping the body working correctly than I am; he made a comment about me using salt on my meat. He is very committed to his running schedule and all the ancillary things around that---hydration, vitamins, warming up and cooling down. But again, I prefer a partner who is attentive to health vs...well, I won't go into my ex's lack of concern for his rebooted heart.
Most of all, I love how we communicate. Little annoyances are addressed immediately, worked through in a respectful, listening way on both our sides. The goal is not to convince the other of anyone's right or wrongness, but just to go through a process of seeing each other's point of view. That is totally new to me. What a losing battle that was with my ex, whose attitude, anytime I wanted to talk about something, was "you don't like it? Leave." (And this is what ultimately happened, right?)
JM recognizes that I/he/we are undoing a lot of patterns I had gotten used to in my previous relationship, and he is infinitely patient with that. "I know you suffered with your ex. I'm so sorry you hurt," he tells me.
Gosh I love this man. Everything is new again. How wonderful to finally, finally, have healthy, balanced, reciprocal and adult love in my life.
Got to the train station early, texted me that he was counting the seconds until my train pulled in.
Train pulls in, I come down the platform stairs, he's there in a lovely pink shirt, slacks, nice winter coat. My god this man is handsome.
A million kisses, we don't care what the others think.
I cry a bit because...I'm so so happy to see and hold him.
We go back to his new place where he is nervous because he wants me to love it. It's nice---a temporary furnished place for professionals so everything is top quality. He is looking to buy a place once the divorce finances are settled (his ex bought his share of their old house).
He undresses me and we make love. It was great, especially because the last time we were together was a month ago. How amazing it is to make love with a man I love.
We leave to go to this huge mall. JM hates malls and never did any shoppng during his marriage (he and his ex had very traditional roles; something that drove him crazy as he never had a say in anything) but I'm happy because I love a new mall. I don't wander, however, as I'm not that annoying girlfriend. Yet. He is here to buy a TV (check) and get a few groceries to complete the menus he has created for our long weekend: Raclette, risotto, salmon, some kind of vegetable gratin and I can't remember what else. He is very concerned about impressing me with his apartment and his cooking skills. I'm overwhelmed.
We remarked that we are already like an old married couple, going to Darty (and applicance store) to buy a huge, flat-screen TV followed by grocery shopping. We like this.
I am struck by a memory I had the day that my ex dumped me. We were having friends for dinner that night and for once, FOR ONCE, my ex went with me to the grocery store. In 10 years he only went with me about 5 times; like most things, I did the grocery shopping alone. Anyway, on that Saturday we were in the grocery store and my ex walked 5 meters in front of me, never aligning his pace with mine or even looking at me. And I saw all the other couples, hand in hand or just synching with each other as they examined coffees or talked about which fruit to buy. It was so incredibly sad and stressful for me to know I was putting up with unacceptable behavior. It was heart-breaking for me to see all these other Saturday couples strolling, and there I was, behind my ex who obviously did not love, or even like me enough to want to stay near me. When did he start hating me? I have no idea. But it had been a long while since he even looked at me.
But with JM, we went through that mall hand in hand, or arms around each other's waists, stopping for kisses, checking in on what type of lettuce we'd like, did I want tea since I was getting a cold?, and let's pick up some more of this or that. Even though the mall was overheated and crowded with obnoxious teenagers, it was really a lovely, normal, and common-to-couples experience. These are the things that make me tear up now, and mystify JM because "hey girl, I'm just being normal."
We head home, put up the groceries, and go back to bed to make love again. Around 9 pm we get up, JM begins the dinner prep, and eventually we sit down to a really wonderful raclette and good exchange of ideas.
Back to bed and for the first time in 10 years...I spend the entire night next to a man I love. When we first went out to Verneuil I could not get used to sleeping next to him and left our common bed for one of the spare bedrooms. For this trip, I had told JM I was determined to learn to sleep next to a man for the entire night because I did not want to miss out what I remembered, before my ex, to be a wonderful experience: going to sleep and waking up in the arms of someone I love deeply.
My ex and I never spent a whole night together. We would fuck and then he'd go downstairs to fall asleep in front of the TV, coming back to one of the spare bedrooms to finish his night. "You'll just kick me out because I snore" he justified. But it wasn't that, or only that. It was that we had zero intimacy, the kind you need to fall asleep easily, feeling safe and feeling loved. This, JM gives me. Over and over again. Phil never made me feel safe enough to fall asleep next to him.
The next day JM went to work and I left for Starbucks to get on their WiFi (not yet set up at JM's flat) and do my own work. He had reserved lunch for us at one of Lyon's gastronomical meat restaurants and gave me instructions on how to take the metro there. He was waiting for me at the metro exit and told me he had missed me that morning. Is that something in my eye? No, just holding back more tears. How long will it take for me to get used to hearing warm, loving and kind statements? This was just not part of Phil's vocabulary.
Lyon is known for being ground-zero for culinary experiences in France, and this restaurant did not disappoint. The butchers work behind a plate glass window so you can see your cut being prepared before your eyes. JM, being so courteous and generous, asked if that bothered me; he would give me the seat where you don't see the hanging slabs of beef. No, I'm not uncomfortable with that at all. I had a steak with the most delicious morilles mushroom cream sauce and gratin dauphinois which was more cream than potatoes. Definitely not heart-healthy. I only ate about a quarter of it all but man oh man it was really sublime.
We walked a bit after lunch and then he returned to L'Oreal and I to Starbucks to continue working on my freelance project.
Met back at his apartment after work where we went back to bed for another session of love making. Then dinner: salmon and creamed spinach (to balance the lunch excess; JM was fantastic with his menu-planning) but not too much cream. Wonderful artisanal cheeses and bread for dessert.
The next morning we woke up, made love again, spent time talking over breakfast, had a delicious lunch (chicken cutlets, the rest of the spinach, more cheese and breads) and left for the Da Vinci exhibit that he had purchased tickets for us.
Fantastic visit, hand in hand, through the museum space, a former sugar processing plant (Lyon has done an excellent job with their urban renewal projects, making docklands into hipster venus and pricey apartment buildings). I was touched because JM, a scientist, is not a museum kind of guy, but he wanted to find an activity that we both would enjoy so he selected this exhibit since of course da Vinci incorporated a lot of physics into his inventions. I loved listening to JM's explanations of why and how. Another layer of love deepens.
We walked around the docks, then took a tram to the Place Bellecour where we had hot chocolate (me) and fruit juice (him). How nice it is to be with a man who takes excellent care of his health. No smoking. No alcohol. Runs every morning. And of course lots of L'Oreal products in his house so his skin is like a baby's. (I don't like that he looks younger than me. And dating a man whose skin is better than my own? Grrrrr.) We pull out our calendars to review our train tickets/visits through the end of the year: JM to Paris (and Normandy) the remaining weekends of November, me to Lyon most weekends in December, and of course post Christmas through January 4th. I'm again overwhelmed at his proactive nature of making sure we see each other often and not leave travel to chance. We are each other's priority. Another thing: since I have to board Jesse (my dog) when I travel to see him, he immediately offers to contribute to that expense as well as my train tickets. My god. What a good, fair, ethical and moral man. He is what I have always deserved.
From the Place Bellecour we cross one of Lyon's rivers (I think it was the Rhone) and go into Old Town. By now it is nighttime. Everything was illuminated and so delicate and pretty: the bridges arching over the ribbon of water, the St Jean cathedral, the small lights running up the hill to the Fourviére Basilica. There's a honey store; we buy some Corsican honey that tastes like cinnamon and lime tree leaves. I will leave it at his flat for my breakfasts.
We take the metro back home where JM prepares a risotto that knocks my socks off. He makes a small steak to serve with it but really, just the velvety, cheesy, gooey risotto would have been enough.
He tidies up the dishes and we return to bed. More lovemaking, a lovely combination of naughtiness and tenderness.
Sunday is my last day and we stay in bed a long time. Finally I get up, shower, dress, do my little suitcase and go out to get fresh bread while JM makes lunch: a gratin of small, goat-cheese filled raviolis and zuchinni. While I'm out I snap some pictures of the amazing mid-century modern architecture in his neighborhood. I want to remember everything, even though I know I will be coming back time and time again.
Lunch is eaten, tidied, and we make love a last time (not in bed, but in his bathroom, where I had been fixing my makeup and brushing my hair and where he casually entered and could not resist unzipping my dress as he watched me prepare for my departure. I love the passion that comes with new love. May it last. I will make sure it does.)
And then there was this: a key. His key. Given to me because of course I should have it. No ceremony, no "please don't read anything into this" which was what Phil said to me when he gave me the key to his place "in case he lost his." His key because we have the kind of love and trust and emotional intimacy that make a key exchange a natural outcome to all this.
I have so many feelings. I still go into a state of disbelief that this man loves me this much. He is such a good human being and a good man. No, I'm not putting him on a pedestal. He's got personality traits that annoy me: he is very fastidious, a natural part of being a scientist, I think. Everything is very clean and in its place in his house and I am careful not to be a slob or leave stuff everywhere, which I can do. But I'd rather have a Felix Unger (for those old enough to understand that reference) than an Oscar Madison for a boyfriend. He is more obsessed with health and keeping the body working correctly than I am; he made a comment about me using salt on my meat. He is very committed to his running schedule and all the ancillary things around that---hydration, vitamins, warming up and cooling down. But again, I prefer a partner who is attentive to health vs...well, I won't go into my ex's lack of concern for his rebooted heart.
Most of all, I love how we communicate. Little annoyances are addressed immediately, worked through in a respectful, listening way on both our sides. The goal is not to convince the other of anyone's right or wrongness, but just to go through a process of seeing each other's point of view. That is totally new to me. What a losing battle that was with my ex, whose attitude, anytime I wanted to talk about something, was "you don't like it? Leave." (And this is what ultimately happened, right?)
JM recognizes that I/he/we are undoing a lot of patterns I had gotten used to in my previous relationship, and he is infinitely patient with that. "I know you suffered with your ex. I'm so sorry you hurt," he tells me.
Gosh I love this man. Everything is new again. How wonderful to finally, finally, have healthy, balanced, reciprocal and adult love in my life.