In Pursuit of Wholeness

So if anyone noticed, I fell off the face of the earth for about 10 days. Not abnormal for me, but if you also noticed, my absence coincided with the already commented Spring Break beach trip.

WARNING: Long post. I’m so happy I will share pretty much every detail. To anyone wanting a Cliff’s Notes version, here it is:

- Nothing happened with the Accountant, as I don’t like him
- I had a very relaxing 5 days which were extremely emotionally healthy for me
- I met someone.

To the rest who may want details… here they are:

As you may recall, I filed the Accountant as friend (a while ago wonderful Miss M mentioned that I kept obsessing with whether he liked me and had not stopped to think about whether I liked him to begin with, which led me to realize I didn’t, ha!). So I took the trip with him and another female friend of his (whom we shall call the Dancer), as just a relaxing time for me.

And it was. I didn’t get as much reading done, but I got plenty of time to sun bathe and mostly to think about the stuff I’ve been keeping tucked in my mind and heart. And it was good to do so. You will find out more about the struggle with step dad in the last F-word installment (coming up soon), and also an update on how I’ve been feeling about the Ex. The trip was good in that it gave me perspective and helped me get in touch with me again. I needed that.

But now for the juicy gossip: the new man (who also has a lot to do with the many smart insights I gained this last week).

Last Thursday the Accountant, the Dancer and me flew together to his beach house, which is not in the US, but close. He mentioned that on Friday his cousin would join us for the weekend because he lived in a city nearby. On Friday night, as I came downstairs from taking a shower I heard another male voice in the patio. I sent out a little prayer, “Lord, please at least let him be good looking so I can have some eye-candy this weekend”. I walked out and he was excellently good-looking!! So we talked a bit, it was explained to me they were “cousins” by choice, not by blood and that they had been good friends for about 9 years. They met in France, when the Accountant was there in exchange. Wait. France? “So you’re French?” I asked. “Oui” came as the answer. Great. I speak Italian and Spanish and this guy is French. Grrrr.

But I digress. We went to dinner and since I wasn’t necessarily looking into picking someone up, I wasn’t being my normal nervous “I like you” me. I was being a very relaxed, very giddy, very 100% me. The FrenchMan and I talked and talked through the appetizers and dinner; he laughed at my jokes in the car and loved that I started staring at the dessert menu before the main course was ordered. The Accountant looked at me from across the table and raised his eyebrows as if to say “well hello! My cousin likes you”. I just giggled.

We then went to a bar and that’s where the magic started to happen. Somehow we got around to the subject of therapy. Most times people react with a “oh…. you go to therapy?” weird look. He grabbed my arm and said, “¡me too!” And from then on we just jumped into talking about why we think therapy is so good and about our lives and we had those wonderful conversations that go something like this:

FrenchMan: Don’t you think the sky is green?
NSLW: Yes! So I’m not crazy. It’s totally green. And at dusk, olive green
FrenchMan: Exactly!! I totally see that!

….. you get the drift. All punctuated with finishing of a couple of the other’s sentences and lots of excited holding of my hand and wrist from his part whenever he agreed with something I said. I felt like we were in our little world and the Accountant and the Dancer didn’t exist.

So we left, went back home, everyone went to bed (them downstairs, we girls upstairs). On Saturday we hit the beach and guess who asked for me to rub lotion on his back? Yup. At some point he fell asleep on his belly and when he woke up he had a sore and burned back. This will be important later… He he.

After lunch, it got cloudy, so everyone but him just sat reading by the beach. He stayed behind to work on his computer. After a while, I decided to “go look for my journal” in hopes to exchange at least a couple of words. When I got to the house, he gestured for me to come in, patted the sofa spot next to him and said “come see my friends in France”. And then for about an hour or more, I didn’t check, we talked and talked again. He told me about what he was struggling with, I told him about my “forgive the step dad” project. It was a beautiful conversation where we touched on our perspective of life, the difficulty of being an ex-pat and the struggle to find the place where you belong in the world. He never seemed to want to go back to the beach, and I didn’t move. Eventually I did go back out – I didn’t want to be too invasive of his “work time”. But he came out a few minutes later and sat talking to the others as I journaled a bit away. The funny thing is that I wound up journaling not about the step dad issue (because I talked it out with him), but rather about how happy I was feeling to find someone I could connect with, even if it was a bit frustrating that he isn’t in NY.

When I finished, I went back to the group and when the Accountant and Dancer went for a run, we stayed to watch the sunset. We kept on talk-a-talking until it got too cold and we had to go in. After showering, he came upstairs and asked me to rub lotion on his very red back. The Dancer was closer to him -distance wise- but he asked me. After we got ready, we again went to dinner and we found a cute Italian restaurant, where I chatted up the owner, who came from Italy, in Italian. At the end of the meal, the owner sent a complimentary drink for all of us, and gave us a freshly baked loaf of bread. I taught the group how to say thank you in Italian and as we were leaving and they had yelled a collective “Grazie!”, I approached the owner and thanked him personally. When we walked out, the FrenchMan said to me: “It says a lot about you that you take time to thank the owner” I replied I had been taught well by my mom, but he insisted: “It really says a lot about who you are inside”. I was floored. I mean, I thought it was the most normal thing, but he seemed to love it.

Anyways, the four of us went for a walk by the sea shore, where we again he and I talked and talked. We tried to go dancing but hated the place and left for home. On Sunday we decided to go to another beach where you could go horseback riding. Again, at this beach it was I he asked for his lotion/sunblock application assistance. Then they went horseback riding. I wasn’t too into that, so I stayed behind sun tanning. Later, they went swimming and I fell asleep on the beach, laying on my belly. I got woken up by water splashed on my back. I turned and he said “I’m back, and I’m going back out to ride, want me to teach you?” Now, I was not planning on doing that. But I thought… Time alone with him? Heck yeah! So I suddenly was all into horses.
We spent about one hour in between that and going into the sea to swim. He found it awesome that I do yoga and had played tennis in high school. I found out all about his love for adventure in the outdoors.

That night after dinner his back was hurting bad so I offered to give him a massage (I give mean ones!) and he agreed. He laid on the living room sofa and for about 30 minutes I gave him a back rub. It was all 100% G-rated as the other two were there watching TV. Lots of giggling ensued whenever I hit a good spot and he groaned, but when I was done he insisted on how good he felt. Later that night, we went to an awesome bar by the sea. We again laid next to each other on the beach with our drinks and started to count shooting stars. Once back home he was exhausted and wanted to go to bed. But we drunkies were not letting him, until he said that maybe he would sleep upstairs. The Dancer mentioned the room was a mess. I said I’d go straighten up, but what I did was put all the junk on her bed so mine was free. And no, I wasn’t planning a hook-up. I knew that would not happen under the circumstances and I didn’t want it anyways. Things were too good to mess them up. I just wanted his cologne on my pillow (I know, lame). After I got downstairs I gave him my notebook and asked for his email so I could send him the pics of the trip. He took forever to give it back and when he did I had every-single-way to get a hold of him. All 4 phone numbers and 2 email addresses. Sweet.
Sometime later he did go to bed and when I went upstairs to get my toothbrush I did see that he had fallen asleep on my bed.

That night, the Dancer and I slept downstairs. Very early in the morning, I heard him come downstairs to get in the shower. He got out and eventually made a loud noise, at which point I pretended to jerk awake. We said hi and I fell back asleep. Then I woke up again when he came to get his bag, which was right next to my sofa (we were sleeping in the living room). He said he was leaving, so I got up to say bye. He gave me the biggest, longest hug and told me how much he had enjoyed meeting me and that I had better email him. I replied that I hoped it was not the last time I would see him and he responded with a very strong “Of course not!”. He hugged me again, started to walk out the door and at the archway he turned and the following convo happened:

FrenchMan: So… you leave in two days, right? You’ll be in NY on Thursday?
NSLW: Yes
FrenchMan: So I can expect an email from you starting Thursday.
NSLW: Of course!
FrenchMan: OK then. Bye… (sound of kisses being blown)

When he was gone and I got into bed, the Dancer turned to me and said: “Dude! He’s so into you!!” So it wasn’t just me liking him? I asked. No, according to her. She said it was obvious he was into me, all the attention, talking, etc, and the fact that no matter how close she was, it was always me that he asked for anything.

**********************

On Wednesday, on the way to the airport (I left a day earlier than the other two), the Accountant said, “by the way, NSLW, FrenchMan called this morning and said to wish you a good trip.” At the airport, once I had cleared security, I called him. He answered his cell with a “please hang on a sec” and I could hear him talking in business mode on a land line. When he got to me, the credit on my calling card (remember he was in another city already) was running low. So I teased him for beating me to a “good-bye” call and thanked him for all the talking. He said similar niceties and reminded me to come visit him whenever I wanted and said he’d try to come visit “you and the Accountant” in NY. Since I had about 30 seconds of credit I just said by and boarded the plane shortly afterward.

On Thursday (I swear, I’m almost done, but it’s goooood!!) I showed some restraint and added him to IM at about 2pm. Then I built the photo album and at 5pm emailed him with it. I wrote in French the opening (I used an online translator) and called him my “dear horseback riding teacher”. As a P.S. I added my phone numbers and joked I didn’t have as many as him. Two seconds later the email bounced back because the address was wrong. I realized I’d typed it wrong, fixed it and sent the email again.

Then I logged of and went out to meet a friend. On the bus, one of my roommates called to say hi. Just then, I got a call waiting from an “unknown” number, which normally means long distance, my parents or anyone outside of the US. I thought, “oh, if it were only the FrenchMan” but thought it was probably my parents. I switched the call and got a “NSLW?” after my “hello”. Instantly I recognized him.

NSLW: FrenchMan? What an awesome surprise!
FrenchMan: Hi! I just got your email. I was writing back and then decided to just call you!

And for about 8 minutes we talked. He again mentioned he’d come to NY sometime this year to see me. Would I be here? I said yes, except for part of the summer when I’m going to [country where he lives] to do some grad school research.

FrenchMan: Well, I’m going to France for a couple of weeks around that date, but when I come back it’d be great if we could see each other. Would you like that?
NSLW: Of course!
FrenchMan: Really? Or do I need to sweeten the deal to convince you to see me?
NSLW: No, there’s no need. We will definitely plan to see each other then.

We said good-bye and hanged up. When I got home, I found a message on my home machine, which he left before he called the cell phone.

And that’s that.

The conclusions from this loooong post and wonderful five days? Very simple, but meaningful all of them:

- The FrenchMan may become just a friend down the road, but feeling the chemistry and the joy of just clicking with someone gave me great hope for the future. It can happen again that I can find someone who likes me -a-la Bridget Jones- “Just as I am”
- The talks I had with him challenged me to think a lot about what I think and who I am. Talks which, along with some “me” time and lots of spiritual reflection thanks to a very nice little book I took with me helped me feel….
- that I am me again. Two years of suffering ups and downs with the Ex and being completely insecure about myself and doubting everything because I always wanted his acceptance have left me exhausted. The weeks without him and specially this last week, I’ve felt a growth, a peace and a return to me I cannot describe. Which is why this mini-vacation more than a break, it was a breath of fresh air.

And finally, indulge this Not So Little Woman with some teenage answers: While I’m trying my best to not get too caught up in the illusion of what could happen with the FrenchMan, I need to ask:

I’m not too crazy when I think he likes me, no? I mean…. Would you call a girl LONG DISTANCE FROM ANOTHER COUNTRY just to answer her email if you don’t like her? Would you offer to “sweeten the deal” for her to see you when she goes back if you don’t like her?

Sighhh… We clicked in such a way that it blows my mind. I really, really would like for this to work out and until I see that it’s a no, I will continue to pray (as I’ve been doing since I saw him last) that it’s a yes.