So, dinner with Train Stranger last night then.
I think it all started yesterday afternoon. The weather was foul - cold, wet, miserable spring weather - and I decided to get the duvet and lie on the sofa watching a movie. I wanted something french, something I already knew.
The choice was 'fauteuils d'orchestre' or 'l'homme de sa vie'. Now, fauteuils is a great Sunday afternoon movie. Possibly my favourite Sunday afternoon movie (after North by Northwest of course). But I just wasn't in the mood for Cecile de France and her perkiness.
So I went for 'l'homme de sa vie'.
It's beautifully filmed, well constructed and well written. Bernard Campan is gorgeous in it, and plays troubled husband so well.
I watch the film, cry (a lot) and wind up feeling as miserable as. I'd forgotten how melancholy-making this film could be.
A deep funk had indeed descended.
I shower, I even shower with special mood-enhancing shower gel. But the funk doesn't lift.
I get dressed and head out. Dinner is at my favourite Lyon restaurant. On the way I keep telling myself, be happy, cheer up.
At the restaurant, TS is waiting for me. He looks great and his smile makes me remember why I'm here.
We talk about our weekends and I tell him I watched this film.
"How can you watch that?" He said.
"Because it's a great movie"
"It is, but I saw it at the cinema and vowed never to watch it again. I don't think I've ever taken so long to get a film out of my head"
We ate great food. We had great conversation. He held my hand across the table and we had a funny looking-at-each-other moment. My melancholy still biting, refusing to give in to happiness.
Afterwards, we walked back towards town along the river and over the rickety-rackety bridge - the Pont Masaryk.
We get to mine and move in off the street, into the lobby of my building. We stand there, heads together, temples touching for a while. We kiss goodnight. There's no invitation from me, and he leaves, back to his own bed.
I'll see him again, maybe. But next time, I'll stay off the movies.