In mere days I will be in the most romantic city in the world. It is a city of narrow winding streets that hide beautiful treasures just beyond every curve in the road. It is a city to get lost in. It is a city that you can visit innumerable times and never see it in quite the same way. It is a city to never get bored of. It is my favorite city.
And who will I be visiting this city with? My partner! And who will I see while I am there? KJ! And who is KJ there to see? His girlfriend! I am equal parts thrilled and terrified at this most convoluted of situations. What I will find most difficult is not effusing with warm desire towards and making the biggest of googly eyes at KJ. I will have to keep my hands to myself. I know that this will pierce my heart to act neutral around him, but it surely won’t hurt as much as if I have to meet his probably perfect girlfriend.
All of this drama makes me wonder if it would be better to just not see him at all. Why stir the pot when I am settling into my grey mundane life after I said goodbye to him over a month ago? But then can I count on ever seeing him again? No, I can’t. He lives in an unusual, far-away place and one I have no desire to visit again except to see his spun gold locks shine in the sun.
I also entertain fantasies of setting it off while walking across one of the most beautiful bridges in the world. Or whilst walking down a cobbled alleyway. Or over a loud pub conversation in which our group of mutual friends are all yelling at one another over the din. To say, “to hell with it!” and put my hand on his leg, to put my arm around him, to look deep into his eyes, and to let him know that I cannot let him slip through my fingers yet again.
