He cooked me steak and I set the little table like a restaurant with a candle and we drank wine and when the bottle was empty I drank him too.
I made him sushi another day and we cried wasabi to each other and made love for six hours.
We spent this weekend together sharing our music, sharing French wine and Italian wine and we went to a bar one night and a party another, and when he was low I pulled him out of himself and was all understanding and brightness.
I’ve had so much sex these past two weeks, more than ever in such a short period. It has been the best sex of my life. A friend, well maybe not a friend, but an aquaintance of his, asked me drunk, why don’t you come home with me instead? You’re hot… come home with me. We’d have a great time… He’s leaving in three weeks. Come with me instead… And I laughed and said why would I do that, I have him for three weeks and it’s the best sex I’ve ever had, and I told Antoine this and he said really, you didn’t say that… and I said yes, yes I did… and he beamed and that night he dreamt that I had sex with another man while he watched and he hated it.
He leaves in three weeks and I stay here.
Ireland has faded a little. It’s fun, I have people to see all the time, and I’m fun and I’m giddy.
But oh look what I found here, a French man… and he isn’t just a Frenchman, he’s a full person, he lets me know him and he shares himself so I share myself too. With wild abandon, of course. He’s like no one I ever met before, he’s sincere and he’s gorgeous and we bite each other hard while we orgasm together….
All the men I have spread my legs for, have been cheap substitutes, empty boxes with no dvd inside. Empty so I can’t steal from them, something precious they don’t want to surrender to a woman they hardly know.
Oh I want this… I don’t ever, ever, ever want to prop myself up at a bar again and force charm and interest onto men who don’t matter. I’ve always scoffed at lovemaking, preferring a good auld fuck… but this is incredible, there’s nothing frilly or slow or boring to this. I’ve been a very foolish girl. I feel like I’ve sat myself down at a piano for the first time and found that beautiful music came out. Why didn’t I try before, I think, and oh how this will be part of me now and for the rest of my life.
And you can’t look for it, can you?
I’ll miss him when he leaves, maybe I’ll pine and fall apart, but I don’t want him to stay either. I remembered something I said before, how you meet sorted people when you are sorted, and messes when you are messy, and when you are in a transition period and don’t know where to go or what to do with yourself, you meet people in a similar state. I’m in transition and so is he. So it’s not to last… it’s a lovely wonderful filler of a gap before we go do other things.
I don’t think I’ll stay in Ireland. I’ll save some money… hmm, maybe… I’ll try to save some money, yeah, I’ll try… really. And maybe I’ll go to Paris and learn French, and NOT to see Antoine, no, he doesn’t live in Paris. But I have fallen in love with something that is not a man, it is just man-shaped, and it’s partly French, so that’s a clue, I’ll sniff it and follow the source…. I want to go somewhere and be a lost person and learn to speak French because it’s beautiful and have no friends again for a while and meet passionate people and maybe write something.
I’m being very uncharacteristic here and in the last post too, I guess I just haven’t been clumsy and awkward lately, there’s nothing funny or embarassing to impart… or maybe all the usual blog-fodder has been eclipsed and I don’t even notice the faux pas I am making because I am having such gluttonous sex…
Oh I feel good when I’m with him. Relaxed. Happy.
He leaves in 2 and a half weeks and then we’ll see how I do…
I just hope I’m woman enough to walk the walk, to take the sweetness from this time and install it in my personality, and not just pine like a teenager who lost her spotty sweetheart.