"The City of Light", or, "How I rejected a Frenchman," or "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return."

Paris.

The city of Light.

I was there for 18 hours.

I went to the city and wandered from 4 pm until 1 in the morning.

I never stopped walking, and 48 hours later, 

my legs still throb a bit.

I couldn’t come close to absorbing everything I saw 

in that short time.

I walked through the halls of Notre Dame and was moved to tears.

I rehearsed the entire score of Les Miserable, and pretended to be Eponine as I walked along the river Seine, singing softly to myself.

On My Own, indeed.

And then.

A French man started talking to me.

It took a minute, but soon he was conversing with me in English, and promptly told me that he would be my tour guide. He then proceeded to grab my arm, 

and wander the city with me for three hours.

Truth be told, I wasn’t too keen on his help, but he was walking the same way I was, and he knew how to get places. 

And I had a lot of places to get to. 

He was an atheist, a physics teacher, 

from a city I’ve never heard of.

He quoted Bruce Lee at least once every half hour.

Best conversation:

Him (in a thick French Accent): “You are from Utah? Utah is known for something… What is it?”

Me: “Our snow! We have the greatest snow on earth!” (I’d just been in the Swiss Alps, mind you, and I had snow on the brain)

Him: “Oh yes!! That is it!… No… Wait… And there are a lot of Mormons there, am I right?”

To sum up our three hours together, he went from being my tour guide, to professing his undying love, and telling me that he knew where the Mormon Temple was and he would take me there immediately to get married and move to America with me.

“Because there is nothing more important in this world than Love!” he said.

Oh how ridiculously French of him.

I already know how my readers will respond.

Before you get too excited about the possibilities 

of a French Fling, lets get one thing straight.

He’s no Ethan Hawke...

Forgive me, but after about an hour with this fellow, I was D.O.N.E. done.  He was schmoozy and pushy and as the evening progressed he turned downright creepy.

At one point I literally said the words, “No means no! And I’ve said no!” angrily, as he pressed me to accompany him to his apartment that night for the third time.

But in French no kind of really means yes, no?

At one point we stopped at McDonalds for the bathroom, and I almost gave him the slip. But it was dark, and I was scared I’d get lost. So I was stuck with him until I got back to Notre Dame.

(Did I mention I can’t remember his name? I asked, he answered, I immediately forgot, and never asked again…)

He was quite the French stereotype, and only wanted to talk of love. He talked about how romantic love must be reciprocal, and how tragic it is when it isn’t.

But that it usually isn’t.

(Story of my life, Nameless French Dude… )

When we finally made it back to the Cathedral, I told him it was time to say goodbye. He said he would love to kiss me, and I said no way no how, pushed him back, 

and ran into the cathedral yelling,

“SANCTUARY!!!” 

 

But seriously. 

His thesis in all his Frenchman ramblings was that  LOVE is the most important thing there is in life. 

He said it over and over and over -that our goal in life must be to find love, and to find someone to love us.  

That we shouldn’t wait around for someone 

if they aren’t interested. 

That we need to seek love and show love and give love.

His last words to me, 

as I was literally pushing him away, were this: 

“Your life will not truly start until you realize that Love is the most important thing there is and you find it!”

It’s like he was giving the tag line for my blog, no?

I did run inside Notre Dame then. 

They were in the middle of the Easter Sunday midnight Mass.

It was packed, and silent, and candles were lit. 

The organ was playing deep and mournful tones, as the congregation was chanting and singing. 

It was beautiful. 

I sat in there for two and a half hours until the Mass was over. 

One reason was to ensure that I was in a large group as people left the cathedral late at night. 

Safety in numbers.

But I also sat to contemplate.

And to worship.

And think about Love.

And think about Easter.

And think about all of the implications of all those things.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am seeking love.

Preferably that of the reciprocal kind. 

But there is still great love abounding.

And so I continue to think about Love.

And I think about Easter.

And I think about all of the implications of all those things.