That Guy Again

Okay. I don’t know what to think anymore. I didn’t know it earlier either. But that’s not the point. The point is that I can’t get him out of my mind. And I don’t know why. Because nothing happened. By nothing I mean NOTHING. There has never been, in the whole history of the human race, a less romantic, less flirty relationship between two people on a second date. Meanwhile the “setting”, as we German A-Level students know it from our English classes in short stories, was the most romantic thing ever.

I am not kidding anybody here. If someone gave me the screenplay of this date and what happened around us (leaving out the dialogues please, for God’s sake), I’d hire him immediately for my next romantic drama or comedy on the movies. The beginning was Spiderman. “The Amazing Spiderman”, to be precise. Okay (side note: No holding hands, no cuddling, no kiss). But the walk …

Another day, different light, a slightly different place - but at least the same river, ok?

We made our way from Bastille, over Quai de la Rapée and the Pont d’Austerlitz. There is a long green strip along the Seine. And it’s stunning. The tourist’s boats passing by, the setting sun, reflected in the tiny waves of the water, a moment in which you really believe that “la vie est une longue fleuve tranquille”. The light was a mix of orange, yellow, red and a bit of rose. Not too much obviously, to make it just perfect but not exaggerated.

There were joggers, couples who were strolling along the river in direction of the beautiful Notre Dame in the background, enthroned on the little island that cuts off the river in two parts. On its peak you could see lovers on benches and weeping willows. And there were guitar players and a guy with drums, jamming together in an exotic but chilled out rhythm. And we passed by easily and talked. The obligatory accordion player sat on a bridge charged by a million declarations of love in form of locks.

Just sayin'...

It was the right mood for saying something important. Doing something monumental. It was the perfect mood for a first kiss.

Isn't it always the things we didn't do and just imagined to be that are the most important to us? Our expectations, our hopes and our dreams. Of course, it couldn’t be all perfect. It would have been boring, wouldn’t it? There was no kiss. Because boredom is his enemy, I guess.

For me, just being with him makes me feel interesting, important, different. It is kind of like being above everything or maybe just seeing everything from a different perspective. I think about how he looks, how he talks and how he makes me feel: A mix of attraction, anxiety and agitation (alliteration alert). He walked me home and said for next time he’d give me my psychological profile. (Because I asked him what he thought of me last time, remember?)  Which is... I don't know... kind of weird. Kind of business-not-very-romantic-like. And at the same time very interesting for me because I'm always, as you know, very uneasy and worried about my own perception out in the world. And I'm so fucking curious for what he is going to say about me!

Aaaaand… he said "next time". That means that there will be a next time. That makes me shiver again. Before our second date I just had to call my friend to calm me down a bit because I was too f*cking excited (I should slow down my cursing a little, though)! I literally couldn't even!! (Like twitter girls nowadays do). 

I want to hold your hand. - The Beatles

What delights me, too, about being with him or thinking about the whole "Nothing really happens but we talk a lot-Icelandic-programmer-cute-deep-inscrutable-CONFUSING"-guy, is how we end up meeting people like him. How I ended up in Paris, dating a guy from a whole different country, from a whole different world, talking to him in a language I learned for years in school but which isn't my own, my mother tongue, and in which I write quirky stuff on the internet to entertain 10 people and myself. (Best definition of this Blog in a while).

How he ended up being trilingual (literally),having an authority problem, living in Paris, while he's from Reykjavík (btw I love how he pronounces it so smooth) with French/Icelandic divorced parents, dating me, a strange girl from Germany, a country he has never visited before, who loves Spiderman and Artemis Fowl as much as him. A girl who is not really into Game of Thrones (yet?), but very much into internet memes and nerdy websites. And very much into that same, strange guy who doesn't even want to hold her hand, but rather analyze her habits and her mind. Kay. Seems legit.

Obviously, I’ve not quite cleared my confusion up yet. So there hopefully will be another tome adding to the series: “Lotta’s confusing dates: edition 3.0”. I will keep you up about what is happening in my life and meanwhile enjoy yours. And don’t waste too much time on the internet, kids. (The ironic life advice by Lotta, isn’t it terrific?)