So, I just got back to Paris. I left Florida Boy in bed at an ungodly hour and came to work. And this is where I'm sat, at my desk, au bureau. Joy, eh?
Well, I do have reason to be happy. The whole Florida Boy thing is sorted. Sorted in my mind. Sorted in my heart. Sorted between us.
This trip was always going to be about getting to know each other better. Deciding if we really like each other and seeing if there's anything of a future for us.
This trip was about falling in love, or not falling in love.
It was about saying 'this is who I am, this is what I want' to each other.
He lives on the other side of the world to me. Physically, emotionally and mentally, we do not live in the same place.
What I need isn't him.
He is a great guy, a wonderful friend, a truly fantastic Florida Boy. But he's not the man of my dreams.
If he lived in Paris, then maybe we'd stay together for a while until our differences got the better of us. We'd fall in and out of love until we didn't like each other that much anymore. And that would be sad, and a shame.
So, we talked.
I told him how I didn't want to commit to anything more than friendship, but that he has friendship from me in spades, forever.
Transatlantic love affairs need a whole load of energy, emotion, time and commitment. We both agreed that if it's going to be a long distance relationship then it has to be with the person that you really want to spend the rest of your days with.
And neither of us is that person to the other one.
Am I sad that it didn't turn out to be true love? Do I regret that there are no bells ringing, heartstrings twanging, cherubs singing? Do I wish that he had been the love of my life?
Sure. Of course. Without a doubt.
Am I thrilled to have a great new friend in my life? One that I will share great times with over the coming years?
Absolutely, yes.....especially when that friend comes with privileges, ha ha.