Falling in love with you was sudden, the way Parisian rain is sudden. Inevitable. Unsurprising. The well-anticipated first drop on a roller coaster – and yet, somehow, it always catches you off guard.
It had just started raining when I left for work – I know because I saw the mild look of panic on everyone’s faces – especially the unlucky ones who got too comfortable in yesterday’s sunshine so they left their umbrellas at home.
It was Thursday morning – the first morning in a while that I didn’t wake up next to you. I could even picture you sitting there at your tiny table in your tiny apartment. You, already dressed for work (what color polo were you wearing today – red? Or perhaps blue?). I knew exactly what you had for breakfast – yogurt with a bit of sugar, tartines, maybe a slice of cake.
You’ve taught me the meaning of intimacy. With you there’s so little room for surprise or mystery and yet you’re sudden all the same.
Maybe you’re sudden the way sunsets are sudden. Foreseeably marvelous. It doesn’t matter that I’ve seen you a thousand times before, because every night you take my breath away–
No. I refuse to diminish us – what we have, our story – to a tired cliché. Even though there shouldn’t be anything sudden about this. I had bought a roundtrip ticket long before I met you. Our beginning, our end, was scheduled. Our days together quantified. What was sudden was everything that happened in between.
Falling in love with you was far too easy. But it would be a grave error to confuse simple with simplistic. I’ve even shared with you my promiscuous past, peppered with bewilderingly complex characters, tragically flawed and cursed with emotional unavailability. They’ve left me with baggage and scars. I once said that you were “refreshingly normal.” I didn’t know that falling in love with me could be just as easy.
I already know: nothing can possibly hurt more than the way you will hurt me. It is something I thought I could have prepared for. Something I had foreseen. A goodbye that you can anticipate like a death sentence. Sudden like the thud of a gavel. Sudden like the tightening of a noose.
Sudden, how quickly the space closed between us. Sudden, how quickly time will pull us apart. Sudden, the hope that our paths will collide again someday.
Sudden like a would-be trainwreck.
You and I: non? maybe? oui.