I tell you my love story: love at first sight in Paris
It’s time to tell you everything …
Nine years ago, I broke up with a man I loved but with whom I was not happy. That I thought I liked instead.
March 11, 2010, when I had broken up with F and I was unhappy, and I can’t stand loneliness… I was brooding. I had just spent a few days in Bordeaux to sit for competitions and I was coming back to Paris. Paris where I did not yet live. A friend was welcoming me for the night. On March 11, 2010, when I was not well, I wrote in my diary:
March 11, 2010
“ 11pm. I get off the train. I’m coming back from Bordeaux. It’s all over. I constantly need to be surrounded. What I’m going to miss is her body, nothing else. A male body that I can fall asleep on. A warm and considerate body. A soft and youthful body. A comforting presence. A few days ago, nothing mattered to me; live or die. I didn’t care. As if I was incapable of feeling anything. It really is the end. Finished, swept, quartered. But I still want to make love with him.
Is desire love? However, we can want someone other than the one we love. But I cannot conceive of desire without love. It’s a difficult absence, absence of presence, but it’s still in me, in a way.
This emptiness, this incessant nothingness comes back to me every time I find myself alone, facing myself. I need so much support, friendship, some kind of presence. Tomorrow I see him, but neither at his place, nor at my place. I know deep down, it’s better. He disrespected me so much, he humiliated me, he no longer deserves anything from me. I am able to detach myself if I have the will. I have it, the will. Do not Cry. Never. Yes. “You talk about him a lot and every time you say his name your voice is nostalgic. Does that leave room for doubt? I think you love this man and you’re scared to death! “. How do you manage to have so much courage for others and so little for yourself? “ .
In my diary, this is what I wrote:
Lost, lost, torn between the desire to try again and again and to draw a line, a real big line on him. Him who did not correspond to me.
March 12, 2010
5 p.m. Too bad if I am in pain, too bad if I am afraid, too bad if I cry. I’ll always be miserable with him… And those fucking songs that leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
“I would have liked to love you as we love the sun, to tell you that the world is beautiful and that it is beautiful to love. I would have liked to write you the most beautiful poems and build an empire just for your smile. Become the sun to dry your sobs and make the sky beat for a more beautiful future. But it’s stronger than me, you see, I can’t help it, this world is not for me, this world is not mine ”. I’m leaving once again, goodbye spring, goodbye F.
Seeing him cry always tears my heart out… ”
I cried, as one cries during a heartache. When we have the feeling that the void will stagnate, that the body will remain impregnated with its own. And then and then… I met T… after only a few weeks of breaking up… My diary is perhaps the best way to transcribe it all…
March 15, 2010
“Just Dance. DATA. ShowCase. He was brown, eyes an electric blue. I want to see him again. I really want to see him again, I’ve never felt such a thing, it takes my stomach. Dancing in the street and kissing. He grabs my hand and makes me dance. He makes me laugh. He brings my body closer to his. We talk a lot, a long time. It’s magic, on this Alexandre III bridge, a love is formed. Temporary or long-lasting love? Stop beating little heart! I think I am (badly) fortunately the victim of a thunderbolt. “You are very beautiful but here all the girls are, what differentiates you from her is your presence and your charisma”.
March 16, 2010
Euphoria. Doubts. Hesitations. It all sounds too good to be true.
When we met on March 13, 2010, we were both victims of love at first sight. We both thought the other was too good for us. I liked it from the first second. I was electrified from the first touch. I loved him without knowing why, I loved him without giving a damn how. I loved him for who he was and also for what he wasn’t. I loved him for his open-mindedness, piercing eyes, and rotten jokes.
And since March 13, 2010, my heart only beats for him
Today T and me, it’s been nine years, more than eight years together and soon a baby! Our story begins with love at first sight, with an overflowing passion, it continues with moments of intense happiness, by moments of questioning, by a depression that messes up everything, by an impressive force of our love to fight against, by even stronger moments of happiness, by laughter, complicity and shouting shouts. Pass from the state of love to love is the most difficult step. If we wanted butterflies in our stomachs all our life then we would change partners every two / three years, like a cell phone. But love is not a cellphone, it is not an object. Love is work, effort, desire, laughter, complicity, harmony, seduction. Love is wanting the other to be happy, it’s fighting over food, it’s yelling very loudly and making love even harder. Love is wanting to see the other smile and dance in the rain. It’s also the evenings on the sofa watching 5 episodes of a series, it’s falling asleep against each other and being happy when you wake up. Love is also arguments,
Love is that for me and it is something else for him and for her, for you and for us. Love, we have the image, the vision we want. The fulfillment occurs when we manage to be in adequacy with ourselves.