I should, by rights, be feeling blue.
My Lover is wending his way back to Rennes, as I write, after an idyllic month spent together, pretty much joined at the hip. The sky is the disappointing grey of a favourite t-shirt which has been accidentally washed with something black. As I write, a fine rain begins to fall, covering the window in tiny droplets. The kind colleague who usually provides buttery brioche on Thursday mornings is on holiday; my tummy growls in protest.
I feel good. Regardless. Images from the last three months dance in my head, keeping the demons at bay.
In my mind’s eye, I see myself knocking at a door, leaning my hot, flushed cheek against the smooth wall of the hotel corridor, heart pounding, barely able to draw breath as I wait for him to open it.
I see us kissing in the metro, and remember my wistful feelings when once I wrote about other people doing the same.
I feel the knots in my stomach as my TGV train hurtles towards Rennes for my first visit. Is it really possible for two hours to crawl by so excruciatingly slowly?
The tappety tap of his fingers on the laptop keyboard echo in my head as I drift in and out of sleep, half dreaming, half aware of my surroundings. Opening my eyes, I spy a cup of tea steaming on the bedside table, and smile.
Reaching the end of a chapter, I raise my eyes from my book and give him a surreptitious, sideways glance as I take a sip from my wine. He looks up, sensing my stare. Why is it that the longest, darkest eyelashes are always wasted on men?
Tadpole is shrieking with excitement as he swings her high into the air and onto his shoulders. Daddy is, and will always be, irreplacable, but I am relieved and cautiously optimistic at how well she seems to be getting on with the new man in our lives.
I daydream about our future. I see myself putting down my paintbrush momentarily, in the house we are renovating, so I can grope his bottom through his overalls. Or taking his hand and pressing it firmly to my belly. I test the sound of his surname with my christian name and like what I hear.
So many tantalising possibilities.
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petite anglaise 
The perfect antidote to a grey day in Paris…
Comment by Iain — August 25, 2005 @ 12:45 pm
Just reading that post made be grin so much that my co-workers started noticing and asking me who I was daydreaming about… Oh petite, I don’t need to daydream, just reading your post makes me smile at all the possibilities, I’m so happy for you!!
I agree with you regarding the eyelash situation, but then again, considering how much time we stare wistfully at them, I wouldnt say that they were completely wasted…
Comment by jenn — August 25, 2005 @ 12:46 pm
That post was beautiful!
I wish you all the best!
Comment by Kasey — August 25, 2005 @ 12:53 pm
at last..! spell the word: marriage!
Comment by hera — August 25, 2005 @ 12:59 pm
Aaaah, dreaming of wedding bells when a relationship is only a few months old. Classic female affliction.
Comment by stressqueen — August 25, 2005 @ 1:58 pm
My goodness you are far gone.
Comment by Cuccu — August 25, 2005 @ 2:09 pm
A female affliction? I think you’ll find the words marriage and baby were mentioned after only a matter of days. And not necessarily/only by me.
So there.
Comment by petite — August 25, 2005 @ 2:35 pm
Crikey, what kind of fella is this?
Apart from one who’d look good in overalls, obviously. That’s enough of an advantage already to make the rest of us envious.
Comment by hobbes — August 25, 2005 @ 2:57 pm
Aaah, I’m enjoying your life almost as much as you are!
Comment by Antipo Déesse — August 25, 2005 @ 2:59 pm
Well…Is it that it’s grey outside or is it all the steam from that post has fogged up the windows?
Comment by Mica — August 25, 2005 @ 3:28 pm
sounds sad
Comment by adrian — August 25, 2005 @ 3:47 pm
Magic!
Comment by Parkin Pig — August 25, 2005 @ 3:51 pm
So romantic, so full of promise. Good for you Petite, all sounds gorgeous.
Comment by Anne — August 25, 2005 @ 3:57 pm
In your “about” section, you might want to say that you’re horribly in love with a man who’s gropeable in overalls. Sounds like the best description of your current state.
You and the Jim are lucky bastards.
Comment by nardac — August 25, 2005 @ 4:10 pm
I’m jealous!!! My Mr. Frog of 5 yrs dumped me spectularly when I was pregnant with our boy tadpole who will be turning 2 in a few months.
Since then the men in my life have tended to be 1) gay or 2) aged 2 and under.
Good on you. A very special time to be savoured!
Comment by Venetian Blond — August 25, 2005 @ 5:10 pm
Petite in love…A beautiful destiny awaits!
As for what to call The Lover, how about simply GL,
as in (my) Great Love?
Belle
Comment by Belle — August 25, 2005 @ 5:12 pm
Oohhh. That is so sweet. :)
Comment by theinsider — August 25, 2005 @ 5:57 pm
fworrrrr…
Comment by JonnyB — August 25, 2005 @ 6:02 pm
Ahhh Petite, you’ve made me yearn for the heady delights of a new love. I even have sympathy butterflies in my tummy!
Or perhaps that’s pangs of guilt at considering such a thing when I have a wonderful wife/partner/Lover/concubine(!)/friend at home.
Comment by Canuski — August 25, 2005 @ 6:44 pm
It’s beautiful.
Familiar, and beautiful, and lovely.
I don’t have anything more useful to add.
Just rah.
Rah, rah, rah.
Comment by anna — August 25, 2005 @ 10:09 pm
Beautiful Post. As someone still mourning the demise of a long term relationship and coping with the fact that my ex has moved on, it gives me hope that I too can be that happy again. Thanks
Comment by Ellie — August 25, 2005 @ 10:11 pm
Wow! I absolutely love how you write. Its amazing. “The sky is the disappointing grey of a favourite t-shirt which has been accidentally washed with something black”. Its like reading poetry, only a lot more interesting.
Falling in love is one of the best feelings. Enjoy every minute of it. I wish you and Lover the very best.
Comment by Trista — August 25, 2005 @ 11:50 pm
In a world where love has been heavily discounted and romance consigned to books and formulaic TV and movies, it’s touching to see that you have found the right name for him. BF will never do!
Comment by W. S. Cross — August 26, 2005 @ 1:39 am
I was starting to enjoy this blog. Until it got too personal. Getting carried away is one thing, and what you’re living sounds great, but keeping your eyes shut along the way is another. And, for goodness’ sake, don’t give up your name!
Comment by Boris (yes, a bloke. Married. Not gay). — August 26, 2005 @ 1:55 am
“Or taking his hand and pressing it firmly to my belly.” another Tadpole coming soon ??
Comment by Miss Pink — August 26, 2005 @ 2:50 am
What is the collective noun for tadpoles???
Comment by Sarah — August 26, 2005 @ 3:04 am
Poignant and touching. Thank you for such an enjoyable read.
Comment by Medina — August 26, 2005 @ 4:18 am
Please, please do tell…….are you preggers? Do we have tadpole deux? I think it sounds wonderful!
Comment by Laura — August 26, 2005 @ 4:37 am
My, I didn’t expect to be taken quite so literally!
Tadpole #2 is, as yet, a figment of my imagination. I don’t even plan to leave Paris for another year, so this is all in the distant, but very welcoming, future…
Comment by petite — August 26, 2005 @ 8:03 am
number two wouldn’t be a tadpole, n’est-ce pas?
happy daydreaming, petite!
Comment by charlotte — August 26, 2005 @ 9:30 am
quite
Comment by petite — August 26, 2005 @ 9:35 am
*sigh* What a wonderful, romantic post. This is the way love should be.
Comment by christina — August 26, 2005 @ 10:08 am
Am I correct in believing congratulations are in order, or did I misunderstand your profile?
Comment by pww — August 26, 2005 @ 10:20 am
er, I’m not engaged either (don’t believe in it) so unless you can congratulate two people on having firm intentions, I’m not entirely sure…
Comment by petite — August 26, 2005 @ 10:27 am
It’s great how when you start a relationship later in life you cut out all the bullshit and just get on with it. You can be honest about your intentions from day one. You can know that you’re both looking in the same direction.
Enjoy
Comment by anxious — August 26, 2005 @ 12:38 pm
Didn’t mean to come across quite as cynically as I did, Petite.
It really does sound like you’ve met your soul mate.
But I DO think women often tend to get a bit ahead of themselves (I definitely include myself in this category)then they get hurt later on down the line……
Comment by stressqueen — August 26, 2005 @ 1:05 pm
Well, they do say that a man who has swept you off your feet is in a perfect position to drop you on your ass. But that’s not the case this time. I have a good feeling about this one. True soul mates, these two…
P.S. Having British parents, #2 would be more appropriately referred to as “veau”, non?
Comment by Francaise de Coeur — August 26, 2005 @ 1:18 pm
YOU HAD ME AT LONG LASHES!!! *sighhhhhhhhhhh*….
Comment by la.dauphine — August 28, 2005 @ 1:19 am
What lovely images you create.
I’d be jealous, if I wasn’t so happy myself.
Congratulations.
Comment by Anna — August 29, 2005 @ 4:04 am
So we seem at last to have found a nickname for Jim. It is, of course, Future Husband. Why didn’t anyone else suggest this before now? :-)
Comment by suziboo — August 29, 2005 @ 1:26 pm