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la grande rencontre 2

March 2, 2009

And that is the beginning of our story.  We flirted for the day or two that he was in town, had an Easter egg hunt in the rain and cold, and I naively offered up my parents place if he ever wanted to check out California.

To my suprise, during the summer that followed, I got an email from MrB, saying that a himself and a friend wanted to come out.  He gave me vague idea of the dates that they were thinking about, (about a month), but nothing really all that concrete.  The day of the arrival got closer and closer and with no news from him, I thought that they were no longer going to come.  I figured that it was too expensive, or something else came up.  And one day, to my suprise, about two days before they showed up, I got an email giving the day and time of their arrival, and their flight number.  We barely spoke enough of the same language to understand each other (I had a few sentences and a couple of words in French and he had the same capabilities in English), and MrB somehow mixed up US Airways and Americain Airlines.  Yeah.  They aren’t the same thing.

After a frantic run around in the airport, my Mom and I managed to locate them.  (When I read back on this I think how great my parents were.  They didn’t even bat an eye when I told them two 20 year old French guys were coming to stay a month that summer!)

Needless to say we had a blast all summer.  We visited all over, went on hikes, spent days at the beach, it was pretty much a sans faute.  There was chemistry between us then, but it was the summer between my junior and senior year of high school and I didn’t really want to be with anyone full time.  At the end of their trip, tears were shed all around, me, MrB and even his friend.  It was the beginning of a long year for both of us I think.  We weren’t really sure where we were going, if anywhere.  But we both we still really into one another.  Emails we sent daily between us, and finally I decided to head to France for a summer, after high school.  I wanted to have the same kind of fun that I had had the previous summer and wanted to spend some time improving my French.

It was one of the hardest things that I have ever done getting on that plane to France.  I was seventeen and leaving everything that I knew.  I survived.  It has not been easy.  Some days the only thing I wanted to do was pack up and go back home.  Crawl into my parents arms.  Back into my confortable life in the US.  But I am still here.  We are still here, and things get easier.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. March 3, 2009 8:43 am

    You were pretty brave to do that so young. It isn’t easy to change cultures at any age but at 17 you must have felt very alone. Great story. I’m enjoying it. I hope there’s more!!

  2. March 5, 2009 4:41 pm

    It does get easier. Bravo!

    I like your story better. How I met my husband says less nice things about me. I’m sort of a trollop in my love story. Oh well.

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