Thursday, April 7, 2016

Is Paris always a good idea?

Our fifth date was in Paris. I just wanted to repeat that. Years later, it doesn’t stop being cool. I had to spend the night in Paris the day before my flight home to America since I had an early morning flight. Quel dommage. Not.

David didn’t have class that day, so we met up at the Gare du Nord for a last day of sightseeing together. Once again, it was my job to be the tour guide. David, a real live French person, had never been to Paris. However, me, a real live American person, was in Paris for the 5th time. Go figure.

I stuck to the typical touristy highlights since we only had a few hours. We started out at Notre Dame, then walked over across the Seine to the Centre Pompidou to have lunch in that area. It should be noted that since I had previously joked about David not getting the true Parisian tourist experience since he spoke perfect French and people wouldn’t be rude to him... he decided to speak French with an American accent to the waiter. The waiter was actually quite nice and patient with him haha. I still think his fake American French was still better than 99% of American tourists, though. He tried.


Up until this point, we had taken things slow (that’s about to change... buckle your seat-belts). As we were walking over to the Louvre we held hands for the first time. Then we sat down in the Tuileries Gardens, on a bench in full view of the Louvre, the Place de la Concorde, and even la Tour Eiffel herself. David handed me a note. It said that he was happy that he met me, would miss me, and ... plot twist...

...that he loved me.

Wait? What? In Marissa world, the “l” word is said when you’re in a very serious relationship, when you can see yourself spending your lives together. Not on your fifth date, only three days after it was officially determined that you like each other. Not when you’d never kissed before. Not when you don’t even know if you’ll see each other again because you live in different countries.

But I guess David had other ideas. :)   I found out MUCH later- like months later- that in France saying 'Je t'aime' means more 'I like you more than a friend' than being deeply in LOVE. David explained that to me eventually and then it seemed a lot more appropriate...

I didn’t have a lot of time to process that (definitely didn’t say it back though), because he was already leaning in the FIRST KISS. I thought about not kissing him, because in a way I felt like I was affirming the love thing. However, I also had wanted to kiss him for a while. And I was leaving the country the next day. And not going to lie, I really wanted our first kiss to be in view of the Eiffel Tower. Come on, that is cool.

So it happened. I was still really freaked out about the love thing, but I didn’t know what to say. David didn’t seem to be phased that I didn’t say it back. He seemed pretty darn pleased about how the day was going.

I maturely decided to ignore that elephant in the room and go on with day. We walked down the Champs-Elysées and strolled down the picturesque Pont Alexandre III toward Les Invalides. A quick metro ride later, and we were at Trocadéro, the iconic Eiffel Tower view location (a lot closer than we were before). Our second kiss may or may not have happened there (after I ate a crepe- gotta have priorities).


Someone was still in a very romantic mood, and someone else was feeling conflicted. Spending time with David over the last few weeks had been so fun and I had been in such a good mood. I was upset because I felt freaked out and I really didn’t want it to be messed up. It had for the most part been a good day, but holding hands, kissing, and saying the l word for the first time all in the span of maybe THREE HOURS was a bit much for me.

At my suggestion, we headed back to the Gare du Nord a little early (it was an escape mechanism shhhhh). At that point, we switched places and David started being the one that was freaked out. At the train station, he asked if we could officially be boyfriend and girlfriend. I told him no. He got on his train heading back to Nancy still looking freaked out that we might never see each other again, and I went back to my hotel feeling sort of relieved that we might never see each other again.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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