I don’t know why this photo is so enormous but I imagine it’s because this man is larger than life. He did let me take his photo for a few euro, he plays one of my favorite instruments (yep), and he has a kind and interesting face.
Still in Paris for another day and a half, and it’s been cathartic and important and Parisian and all that. Earlier I said that I must visit Notre Dame, which is very close to us, because it’s a tradition that I do at least once on every visit here. I take in as much as I can of its Gothic magic, breathe in the centuries-old air, get annoyed with people using their flashes when the signs blatantly ask that one doesn’t, make an offering, and shoot a photo or six of some gryphons and gargoyles. Tradition. I have to do it. But today started to run low on time and tomorrow I have plans that may not lead me in that direction and Wednesday afternoon we leave and … I realized … this “tradition” has served me in some ways but my first four decades were far from smooth, so maybe breaking tradition is what I need to do to make the next four exponentially better.
And so, radical as this may be, it is quite possible that I will NOT visit Notre Dame on this trip. And maybe my life will dramatically improve.
In fact my life has all the makings of being pretty damn good – I just have to let the not-so-good things fade in importance. I thought I was in love and I landed with a thud in the reality of heartache. Ongoing heartache as the object thereof has slipped away from me. He’s going through a tough time and I didn’t do everything right and blah blah blah how easily I make excuses for the trespasses of others. Time to actually be selfish, not just defend myself against accusations of selfishness. I am better than this. I deserve better than this. I will find better.
And that, my friends, just might be the punch-drunk late night me talking, but I like what I’m saying.
Onward and upward, says I. With all due respect to the man I’ve tried in vain to love. I want only good things for him. I wish ill upon no one.
I want him to love me. But he can’t.
And so I move forward.
To incredible lives and the wisdom of years.