Every love story is a tragedy if you wait long enough

Of the thousand loves that you will have in life, there is only one that truly stays with you, that will be imprinted in your soul incessantly no matter how hard you wish otherwise. That is nailed so strong, so ve-ry strong that there is no way to get it out.

They’d met the way star-crossed lovers do. In a street café while they were both in Paris. It is late at night and someone across the way is playing “La vie en rose”. Describing perfectly the rose-colored night.

She sat studying her English-French dictionary, and he sat on the far end enthralled in observing her.

She had a number 2 pencil that she kept occasionally chewing on, and when she was deep in thought she’d shrug her eyebrows and bit the corner of her lip. She’d sip her coffee, jot a few notes down, and then proceed to keep on reading.

He gathered up the courage and picked up his coffee and in the most charming way proceeded to ask, “May I join you?” in French. She nodded, and he sat.

She tried with her broken French to introduce herself, and when he realized the conversation would go nowhere this way, he said

“Don’t worry, I speak English”.

She laughed, relieved, “So, how long were you going to let me go on?”.

“Long enough till you spent all the words you knew.”

She brushed her hair back behind her ear and blushed. Something about him made her stomach squirm with butterflies.

“So where are you from?”

“Dallas, Texas to be exact. And you?

“Texas too, just a couple of towns over.”

“And what brings you to this part of the world?”

“Business, I’m at the tail end of my trip actually, I only have a couple of days left here before I have to head back. And you?”

“It was a girls trip, but my girlfriends had to leave and I decided to stay another week or so.”

“So your alone, in the city meant for lovers?”

“Yea, I guess I am. And so are you?” She asked nervously.

“Yes, I’m by myself.” The innuendo making them both blush.

They spent the remainder of that night wrapped in deep conversation. Both telling their life story to each other as if they’d known each other their whole lives. And when the café started turning off their lights they stood up both wishing the night would never end.

To her relief he said “Would you like to take a walk?”

“I’d love to.”

And they did into the wee hours of dawn. They spent the whole night talking and laughing letting time pass without acknowledgement. And for the next 6 nights hardly spent a moment apart.

They didn’t know how long they had, or if this was to continue, so every second was a sacred morsel that they wished to appreciate.

It was strange to her the familiarity she felt in his presence, how easy it was to talk to him, to be around him as if he’d been forever a part of her life. He saw her the way no one else had managed to. And she had the same effect on him.

So it was no surprise when on the 2nd night as he dropped her off on the steps of the hotel she was staying in, he brushed her hair back, picked up her chin, oh so gently, leaned in and kissed her.

Her heart skipped a beat. And after on the way to her room she sighed. Thanking God and recognizing no one had ever kissed her the way he did.

As the week started dwindling down, they were both nervous, unable to ask of the other anything more than what they had lived. But to not say anything, to not plan out their future was something they could not do. They began planning their return home.

“What if this isn’t it?” He said.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“Well after here I have a trip to Italy that I have to take. I’ll be driving there. What if you were to come with me?” He blurted out without thought.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way”.

They made arrangements and he promised to come by to pick her up. So on a Saturday afternoon she stood under the Hotel Canopy as the rain poured.  Waiting for him. Anxious, nervous, and yet completely confident. She’d met the love of her life. And the whirlwind romance had no end in sight.

An hour passed, and then two, and then 3. She called his phone and it went straight to his voicemail. Worried she ran all the way to his hotel hoping to receive news about him. She walked in drenched. And after they told her he’d checked out it worried her even more so, so she began to call hospitals and police stations. Any news was better than not knowing. Worried she missed him she rushed back to her hotel and asked if anyone had been by to ask for her. He hadn’t. As a last resort she walked under the rain to that same Café where they had met. But there was no sign of him.

And that’s when it dawned on her. He was gone if he’d even been there to begin with. So she stood there on a gray, rainy, Paris afternoon, drenched in rain.

She felt fooled somehow. What had changed his mind? She called him several times till she heard over the phone that the line had been disconnected and was no longer in service.

She sighed and began the draining process of returning to reality. She grabbed her bags, and headed to the airport, where she boarded a plane, that took her far from the winding road with the street Café. The one where she’d said I love you and made plans for a future that would not exist no matter her disbelief.

Every love story is a tragedy if you wait long enough.