Well, I did say I'd tell the story now didn't I...so I guess I should. I hope all of you find this at least somewhat entertaining and forgive me if you don't. Please keep in mind that it was David that made the request and if it seems this has nothing to do with material you should find on a David Baerwald Message Board, think again. Perhaps the next revelation about Mr. Baerwald will be that he secretly enjoys romance novels. I'll try to make this the Reader's Digest version (condensed that is)...
It was the summer of 1997, the first week of July to be exact, and I had just returned from a rather horrible trip to Nantucket. It was supposed to be a vacation but instead I returned feeling like I should be hospitalized. The trip was a disaster and I spent the majority of it trying to drink myself into a coma. I was not looking forward to returning to work because the situation there was also a train wreck. I was depressed and not feeling real good about myself or anything else. I also had celebrated my 30th birthday just 4 months earlier and looking over my life felt I had not done a great job with it thus far. Being that this is a love story I should also point out that I was not in love with anyone and had not been in love with anyone for the previous decade of my existance. I actually had doubts about the fact that I had been in love at all, being that I was 20 years old the last time I remembered feeling anything I could confuse with that emotion. At this point I was willing to chaulk those feelings up to some lustful boyish exuberance. There had been plenty of women in my life and I wanted to feel something more for some of them but I just couldn't get past like. So the last thing I expected to find when I walked into work, wondering if this would finally be the day I quit, was the woman I was meant to be with. I came strolling into the office (probably about an hour late) and there she was sitting behind the receptionist desk. Sure she was drop dead gorgeous but what was truly amazing was the connection I felt with her from the first moment I was in her presence. I guess you really just can't explain how this stuff works. It always sounds goofy or sappy or just plain stupid. I had often been the guy on the barstool saying to his buddy "Come on man, don't try to sell me this love thing." I guess I had to eat those words. Well to cut to the chase we hit it off right away but in mid-August she let's me in on a little secret. In September she's moving to Paris to teach and take classes at the Sorbonne. I'm devastated by this news of course. I'm thinking this is a cruel joke right? You meet the woman you feel you're supposed to spend your life with and less than two months in she tells you she's moving out of the country. When September rolls around she tells me that it doesn't make sense for us to put ourselves through the agony of a long distance affair and that she couldn't take it. She says a tearful goodbye to me and tells me you never know what can happen and her deal with the Sorbonne is up in a year. I get left standing there holding a change of address card she gave me for a residence in St. Cloud, France. I feel suicidal. On the card I also find a phone number. A few days later I try to call but all I get is some crazy French voicemail system I have no clue how to operate. I make several more attempts to call over the next two weeks and continue to have no luck with the phone system. Then I come home from work one day in October to find a message from her on my machine. She's crying and very broken up that I have not tried to contact her and she leaves a new number to reach her with a time to call. When she answers the phone the first words I say to her are "I'm coming to Paris." In a matter of a couple of weeks I had procured a passport and a ticket to France. She tells me if I show up at the airport in Orly on the day I've promised to be there she'll pick me up at the airport...naked!!! So, amazing as it still seems to me, the first time I had ever set foot in France I walked off an airplane in Orly and was greeted by a beautiful vision in a long red coat and high heels...and nothing else. Well, to make a long story short it was early morning when I arrived in France and needless to say we spent the day in her apartment getting reaquainted you could say. That night we walked the Seine in Paris and I was stunned by the beauty of the city but even more so by the woman who was holding onto me every step of the way. We laughed and talked and kissed and made promises to eachother that we have kept till this day. I'm not a rich man in the monetary sense but I'll never have anything that could be worth more that. To find the person you want to spend your life with like that is a miracle.
It can be beautiful sometimes...
Reg
location: back to the wilderness
listening to: static
registered: 1999.11.22
posts: 6470
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–--
'The only way to avoid getting crushed by absurdity, is to humbly include the absurd in our calculations.'
'The only way to avoid getting crushed by absurdity, is to humbly include the absurd in our calculations.'
Reg
(view)
Well, I did say I'd tell the story now didn't I...so I guess I should. I hope all of you find this at least somewhat entertaining and forgive me if you don't. Please keep in mind that it was David that made the request and if it seems this has nothing to do with material you should find on a David Baerwald Message Board, think again. Perhaps the next revelation about Mr. Baerwald will be that he secretly enjoys romance novels. I'll try to make this the Reader's Digest version (condensed that is)...
It was the summer of 1997, the first week of July to be exact, and I had just returned from a rather horrible trip to Nantucket. It was supposed to be a vacation but instead I returned feeling like I should be hospitalized. The trip was a disaster and I spent the majority of it trying to drink myself into a coma. I was not looking forward to returning to work because the situation there was also a train wreck. I was depressed and not feeling real good about myself or anything else. I also had celebrated my 30th birthday just 4 months earlier and looking over my life felt I had not done a great job with it thus far. Being that this is a love story I should also point out that I was not in love with anyone and had not been in love with anyone for the previous decade of my existance. I actually had doubts about the fact that I had been in love at all, being that I was 20 years old the last time I remembered feeling anything I could confuse with that emotion. At this point I was willing to chaulk those feelings up to some lustful boyish exuberance. There had been plenty of women in my life and I wanted to feel something more for some of them but I just couldn't get past like. So the last thing I expected to find when I walked into work, wondering if this would finally be the day I quit, was the woman I was meant to be with. I came strolling into the office (probably about an hour late) and there she was sitting behind the receptionist desk. Sure she was drop dead gorgeous but what was truly amazing was the connection I felt with her from the first moment I was in her presence. I guess you really just can't explain how this stuff works. It always sounds goofy or sappy or just plain stupid. I had often been the guy on the barstool saying to his buddy "Come on man, don't try to sell me this love thing." I guess I had to eat those words. Well to cut to the chase we hit it off right away but in mid-August she let's me in on a little secret. In September she's moving to Paris to teach and take classes at the Sorbonne. I'm devastated by this news of course. I'm thinking this is a cruel joke right? You meet the woman you feel you're supposed to spend your life with and less than two months in she tells you she's moving out of the country. When September rolls around she tells me that it doesn't make sense for us to put ourselves through the agony of a long distance affair and that she couldn't take it. She says a tearful goodbye to me and tells me you never know what can happen and her deal with the Sorbonne is up in a year. I get left standing there holding a change of address card she gave me for a residence in St. Cloud, France. I feel suicidal. On the card I also find a phone number. A few days later I try to call but all I get is some crazy French voicemail system I have no clue how to operate. I make several more attempts to call over the next two weeks and continue to have no luck with the phone system. Then I come home from work one day in October to find a message from her on my machine. She's crying and very broken up that I have not tried to contact her and she leaves a new number to reach her with a time to call. When she answers the phone the first words I say to her are "I'm coming to Paris." In a matter of a couple of weeks I had procured a passport and a ticket to France. She tells me if I show up at the airport in Orly on the day I've promised to be there she'll pick me up at the airport...naked!!! So, amazing as it still seems to me, the first time I had ever set foot in France I walked off an airplane in Orly and was greeted by a beautiful vision in a long red coat and high heels...and nothing else. Well, to make a long story short it was early morning when I arrived in France and needless to say we spent the day in her apartment getting reaquainted you could say. That night we walked the Seine in Paris and I was stunned by the beauty of the city but even more so by the woman who was holding onto me every step of the way. We laughed and talked and kissed and made promises to eachother that we have kept till this day. I'm not a rich man in the monetary sense but I'll never have anything that could be worth more that. To find the person you want to spend your life with like that is a miracle.
It was the summer of 1997, the first week of July to be exact, and I had just returned from a rather horrible trip to Nantucket. It was supposed to be a vacation but instead I returned feeling like I should be hospitalized. The trip was a disaster and I spent the majority of it trying to drink myself into a coma. I was not looking forward to returning to work because the situation there was also a train wreck. I was depressed and not feeling real good about myself or anything else. I also had celebrated my 30th birthday just 4 months earlier and looking over my life felt I had not done a great job with it thus far. Being that this is a love story I should also point out that I was not in love with anyone and had not been in love with anyone for the previous decade of my existance. I actually had doubts about the fact that I had been in love at all, being that I was 20 years old the last time I remembered feeling anything I could confuse with that emotion. At this point I was willing to chaulk those feelings up to some lustful boyish exuberance. There had been plenty of women in my life and I wanted to feel something more for some of them but I just couldn't get past like. So the last thing I expected to find when I walked into work, wondering if this would finally be the day I quit, was the woman I was meant to be with. I came strolling into the office (probably about an hour late) and there she was sitting behind the receptionist desk. Sure she was drop dead gorgeous but what was truly amazing was the connection I felt with her from the first moment I was in her presence. I guess you really just can't explain how this stuff works. It always sounds goofy or sappy or just plain stupid. I had often been the guy on the barstool saying to his buddy "Come on man, don't try to sell me this love thing." I guess I had to eat those words. Well to cut to the chase we hit it off right away but in mid-August she let's me in on a little secret. In September she's moving to Paris to teach and take classes at the Sorbonne. I'm devastated by this news of course. I'm thinking this is a cruel joke right? You meet the woman you feel you're supposed to spend your life with and less than two months in she tells you she's moving out of the country. When September rolls around she tells me that it doesn't make sense for us to put ourselves through the agony of a long distance affair and that she couldn't take it. She says a tearful goodbye to me and tells me you never know what can happen and her deal with the Sorbonne is up in a year. I get left standing there holding a change of address card she gave me for a residence in St. Cloud, France. I feel suicidal. On the card I also find a phone number. A few days later I try to call but all I get is some crazy French voicemail system I have no clue how to operate. I make several more attempts to call over the next two weeks and continue to have no luck with the phone system. Then I come home from work one day in October to find a message from her on my machine. She's crying and very broken up that I have not tried to contact her and she leaves a new number to reach her with a time to call. When she answers the phone the first words I say to her are "I'm coming to Paris." In a matter of a couple of weeks I had procured a passport and a ticket to France. She tells me if I show up at the airport in Orly on the day I've promised to be there she'll pick me up at the airport...naked!!! So, amazing as it still seems to me, the first time I had ever set foot in France I walked off an airplane in Orly and was greeted by a beautiful vision in a long red coat and high heels...and nothing else. Well, to make a long story short it was early morning when I arrived in France and needless to say we spent the day in her apartment getting reaquainted you could say. That night we walked the Seine in Paris and I was stunned by the beauty of the city but even more so by the woman who was holding onto me every step of the way. We laughed and talked and kissed and made promises to eachother that we have kept till this day. I'm not a rich man in the monetary sense but I'll never have anything that could be worth more that. To find the person you want to spend your life with like that is a miracle.
–--
'The only way to avoid getting crushed by absurdity, is to humbly include the absurd in our calculations.'
'The only way to avoid getting crushed by absurdity, is to humbly include the absurd in our calculations.'
