It’s just early evening last night and there we are on the steps of the Sacre Coeur, drinking a cheap split of wine, poured in equally cheap little plastic cups from the hotel, ripping pieces of warm baguette from it’s noisy bag. Surrounding us are crowds of young lovers doing much the same. I am the sole old goat here tonight. But we’re happy.
This a.m. TC is busy testing the hot water capacity of the slate walk-in shower with a window that opens on to the busy street below. I can barely see into the bathroom, the steam forming a jungle like mist. The brown tiger is in there somewhere.
We’ve been talking, he’s been crying and I’m numb by the prospects of us not staying together. TC talked openly about his many friends and suddenly he realized the only one who had a decent relationship was his high school friend who has been with his approaching 60-year old partner for 5 years. One vote for me, I guess, plus bonus points since “I’m not yet 50” practically a new model.
One of TC’s friends is a cute actor, Bryan, doing the equal to Toronto BroadWay. He’s gotten to the point where he will only date someone if they fulfill his checklist of items. Money, prospects, stature, and so on. All very methodical and calculating. TC noting that the one thing Bryan seemed remiss on was attraction and love. So today, Brian is dating someone who meets his requirements but TC can tell there is no chemistry between them. TC is sure it won’t last.
I guess if you been through all sorts of relationships in the past, you get to the point where you want to make it cookie cutter, leave nothing to chance.
But I/we have our own issues to sort out. I leave tomorrow and I don’t think we’ll or I’ll have a clear answer, thus the story might seem to continue.