Here's a continuation of my old Xanga posts, telling how I ended up in France. Read the first post here.
So far, we'd only talked about what I
felt, but I still didn't know for sure what FrenchGuy felt for me. He had on one occasion during the summer told me to forget him, he felt nothing. I was sure I needed to convince him this was no summer fling.
morning we headed out to do the usual Wichita errands and grocery
shopping. Except he wanted me to do the driving.
Within minutes of getting in the car, he opened his
heart. He told me that even when we met at the firestation 2 years ago,
he thought I was "Wow!" And apparently I wasn't the only one who had
spent the last 3 months saying, "Get a grip on yourself!"
FrenchGuy said that I was like a dream. He loved how his mom had stayed at home with her children, but he couldn't ask
for that sacrifice. He said the fact that I wanted to stay home and I
could continue my writing was wonderful. FrenchGuy told me, "With you I
could have the life I've always dreamed of. I could do a lot of good
things with you watching."
Garlic chicken skewers, rose zinfandel, and sweet conversation ("Jenna, you are horribly beautiful.") made for a lovely lunch on YiaYia's patio. Although the waitress hit on him, asking if he was Australian with his tanned skin and long dark curls. Get away, chick. He's mine.
It was all pretty surreal, but a inter-cultural, multi-national, bi-racial relationship is not without it's obstacles...
to be continued next Saturday...