Sunday, May 31, 2009

Paris...for me.

Lee and I on our nightly skype. It's a heck of a lot better than a "cell phone marriage," which is how it was when he lived in LA a couple of years ago. Still, I miss him.

I was scrubbing the life out of a pan in greasy dishwater when I heard a song coming from the Living Room last Saturday morning in NY. Lee found a song on Pandora about Paris and bridges and the Seine – a song I’ve never heard. Something about wanting to “dance with you along the Seine.” He came to the kitchen and took my hand, led me to the Living Room and we began to dance at 9:00 in the morning. The apartment was languishing in that beautiful late Spring northern light, a painter’s light. It was slow and sweet. I had no makeup on my face and I probably hadn’t brushed my teeth. I was wearing a knit shirt and pajama bottoms. He loved me still.

He never wanted to go to Paris. I do. I've never been. He’s changing his mind for me. After sixteen years, we still dance in the morning and he gazes into my eyes and says he wants to go to Paris. God, I adore that man.

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