Envelope

I arrived home late, as usual, there was no one waiting for me so I had no reason to arrive early. Especially as I knew that my troubled sleep would not come easy. I checked the letterbox, out of habitude, to empty it from publicity mail, all my bills were electronic and I had no one who could write to me. There was a single white envelope with my name written on it, no address, no sender. That activated all my alarms, I knew no one could enter the building without the code and that had clearly not been delivered by the postman. I checked the exterior and the interior doors for signs of forced entry but saw none. Still, that didn't mean anything. 

Warily, I got out of the building to see if there was something strange in my flat. I lived on the third floor, facing the street, so it was hard to get a view of it. I was not expecting to see lights on or anything too conspicuous, but maybe there would be something that could show me if someone had been inside. Of course, I saw nothing. A voice inside me insisted on the fact that if someone had broken into my place with the intention to find me inside, they wouldn't have left a letter outside of it. I calmed myself and reentered. Before climbing up the stairs, I took off my high heels, trying to be as silent as possible on those creaky old stairs. Nothing seemed amiss with the door of my apartment, yet I opened it carefully, ready for anything that might come from inside. Yet, it was calm. 

Only then, I realize that I had been clutching the letter. I left it on the kitchen table as I took off my coat and opened the window to let the cold winter air in. With shaking hands, I lit up a cigarette, a habit I had taken up after the Pont Neuf incident. I sat on the window sill, my dress riding up to the top of my thighs. The street was quiet, even for a weekday at the 5è arrondissement. I told myself that it was later than usual, also. When I finished my cigarette, I lit another, calmer then, ready to read that letter that had sent my anxiety levels through the roof. Inside the envelope there was a thick card with a simple message "J'ai aimé votre travail au Pont Neuf." Followed by a place and a time, no date. 

Pont Neuf

I waited for him at the Pont Neuf under a street lamp. I had spent several hours there looking at the tourists marvel at the magic of this bewitched city, ignoring Place Dauphine to buy locks to seal their love. I hated that tradition, I hated that it had almost claimed the Pont des Arts, and I hated the tourists most of all. Yet, I had chosen that spot for the background irony, a place where people seal their love was the place where I was going to end mine. If that could be called love, that is. 

It was late already, and cold on a weekday. All in all, that never guaranteed that the city would be deserted, but it did give a good chance. I lit a cigarette and stared at the Seine. It had been running high for weeks, to the point that the service on the RER C was interrupted. It was soothingly quiet. He did not take much longer. I had told him it was important and that I would not stand it if he was late again. 

He arrived, as usual, from the Rive Droite. This was something where we crashed, as stupid as it seems, but I have always found that routines help me clear my head and, for me, that meant always passing by Saint Michel. He looked handsome under the street lights. He always did, that's probably why I started dating him in the first place. He wore one of his work suits, those that he had tailored and cost a small fortune. He looked incredible in them, but I never liked the fact that he spent so much money on clothes. He stopped few steps before arriving at where I was standing. 

"You look different tonight. And I had never seen you smoke."

I took a drag from the cigarette leaving lipstick stains on it. I looked dangerous, he meant. I was wearing my new coat, one that I had bought specially for the occasion. Red. Sharp high heels and thighs so thin that I could feel the humidity of the Parisian streets on the skin of my legs. 

"People change." I threw the cigarette towards the river. 

"You said you wanted to talk."

"You are getting boring and annoying." I went straight to the point, I didn't feel like having a long conversation and that was one of the reasons why I was meeting him in the street. 

He got closer, one hand on the parapet. "Are you breaking up with me?"

I almost felt bad for him, his pained expression as if I had taken something vital from him. I laughed. He was so predictable. 

"No, I'm not breaking up with you. If I broke up with you, you'd go and annoy me further or go and find someone else to bore to death."

He stared at me, calculating. 

"Instead, I will do it so you do neither ever again." 

I reached up to kiss him goodbye and he automatically reached down. It was easy to push him over, he had not expected it. He lost footing and fell into the water on his back. He didn't even have time to shout before the current dragged him downriver, much faster than it would have seemed, more dangerous than the surface let see. I stared at him as he fought against the river, helplessly. When I couldn't see him anymore I lit another cigarette and walked towards Place Dauphine, my steps resonating on the cobblestones, leaving the past by the river. 

Diana

We all have different loves during our lives. We have our first love, we have the one that breaks our heart for the first time, we have loves that we will never forget and those that we forget before they are even over. We have loves that never start. Then, there's loves you weren't even looking for and that change your life. 

This is a story about one of the later. Of a love that happened all the sudden and I still don't know how. A love that was surprising and fun and inevitably sad. This is a story of how Diana made me a better person and still continues to do. 

I was 29 when I met Diana. Supposedly, an established, responsible adult. In reality not much more than an overgrown teenager who barely knew how to take care of herself. Sure, I was no longer living the life I had lived in my early twenties, but I didn't feel the pull for settling that the rest of my friends had felt. And yet, I was too cowardly to go live adventures, focusing on what I thought was a meaningful and successful career which in reality was simply a way to hide my fears. I did dream of traveling and adventure, but it stayed in dreams. I met Diana at a party through common friends, as many people meet each other. She has just moved to my city and was trying to get to know as many people as possible. I am still not sure how or why we hit it off, but my only memories of the party involve talking to her. We exchanged phones as I had told her that I'd show her around, wondering what was I to show her when I barely knew the city myself. At some point during the night, I gave Diana my address and agreed on meeting her during the morning. To this day, I still don't remember having done any of that. I blame the wine. Well, I thank the wine, otherwise, I'd have lost my chance. 

It was extremely early when the doorbell rang. At first, I thought I had dreamt it, but when it didn't stop ringing I realized that there really was someone at the door. I stumbled out of the bed and searched for my bed robe before walking barefoot to open whoever it was that decided that dawn was a proper time to pay me a visit. Diana stood by the door with her best smile, a backpack, and a bag of freshly baked croissants that smelled heavenly. 

"Oh, so you're not ready yet?" she said disappointedly. 

"Ready for what?" I was barely awake, half-naked, and generally flabbergasted about the whole thing. 

"We are going hiking! You told me so! It's such a beautiful day!"

I stared at her incredulously as she entered the house and threaded towards my room. "I see that you are not a morning person, let me find you some clothes and while you get dressed I'll prepare breakfast."

I had started to wake up and was registering what she was saying. But there was something that didn't add up. I did not know any hiking spots. I had never ever gone hiking in my life. I told her so, wondering if she had confused me with someone else. "I know! But luckiky for you, I do!” There was no way out, so I gave up and did what she told me, dressing in sports clothes. She had also fulfilled her promise of breakfast, so at least I could fill my stomach with croissants and coffee. We ate in silence as she had the decency to wait until the coffee kicked in to explain me the plans. 

We spent the whole day together and when sunset came I was irremediably in love. It was the first time I was in love with a woman. It was the first time that love had arrived in such an unexpected manner. But it was love. 

Our relationship was short but filled with unexpected surprises. Diana liked to arrive at my place unannounced with some crazy plan that usually involved me dropping everything that I was doing and just going with the flow. Something that I always had had problems with. She wouldn't take a no for an answer and thanks to her I discovered many things not only about the city but also about myself. I learnt to improvise and I learnt about the beauty of sunrises and sunsets, about seeking beauty everywhere every day. It was intense, it was crazy, and when it was over it was over. Diana had already spent too long with me, I felt it in my bones that she needed to leave. Because, even though I loved her, I knew she would not stay forever. And I decided to be glad that it had happened and to be glad that I had loved her. 

To this day, I still try to look for beauty everywhere I go. It calms my tired brain. I still try to say yes to unexpected plans and adventures. And, in times, even, I propose them myself. And when I do, I know that somewhere Diana is smiling and approving of it, thinking that I'm doing well. Because that's what this love was about, about being better.