I was re-reading the text of the early chat sessions between Georges and I, from the very first one up until the hour just before we met in person. It now feels so far in the past that it is almost like observing two other people altogether... and yet this is the record of how we began.
What strikes me, upon reading through these chat logs, is two key things:
- These are two people who are on the verge of an amazing journey, and
- They do not have a single clue what is about to hit them.
The first few chats are what I'd call lively banter. Nothing too flirty, but just some witty conversation between two strangers. A better-than-average chat experience, certainly, but nothing really to hint at anything incroyable to come.
Then an invitation from him to meet for lunch the following week, readily accepted by me. Both acknowledging how much we are enjoying the great conversation and finding more things in common. Mainly we seem to be enjoying each other's virtual company, and coming back for more.
And then, things started to take a more interesting turn. Some personal information revealed and shared: where we both lived, etc. ("When is your birthday? And yours?" - He is a Leo, I'm a Taurus.) A slightly serious chat about "What are you looking for/not looking for?" A bit of flirtation, then a bit more, but nothing out of bounds or "too much" - just enough to keep us both very intrigued. Saying we feel happy to "see" each other online.
The day before the lunch date, we were really getting a bit impatient to finally meet. He asked me to meet him that day instead, and when I couldn't do that, he asked me to meet him a half hour earlier for lunch the next day -- no problem there.
That afternoon, I blogged about the prospects of meeting him, before I actually met him, and how the word play between us had really captured my full attention... and he read it and told me he thought I was "merveilleuse" for writing it, and how he felt the same way.
And then... we met.
One of the best parts about writing a personal blog or even keeping a private journal of your thoughts and experiences, is that you get an opportunity to flip back through the pages of time, and see where you've been. You might get some important insights, or see something you hadn't seen before that might help you in the future. At the very least, you might get to relive some good memories. The writing, in itself, is cathartic, but there are times it really helps to go back and review that catharsis.
What I feel when I look back now, as an observer, at the documented "evidence" of those few days before our first meeting, is kind of like what happens in a book or a movie: when you, the audience, is "in on" what is about to happen to the central characters, but they are completely unaware. You know they are heading for something big, something life-changing, and you can see what's ahead for them... but they aren't in on the secret, yet. You, the observer, have the upper hand; you've got the 411. They are blissfully ignorant that they are about to turn down a road that is going to lead them into uncharted territory, where only later will they be able to look back and see that first hint, the glimpse, the premonition, of what is to come at the moment when their two worlds finally collide and are evermore intertwined... mingled... mixed.
"No, I haven't chewed gum since I was 13. I'm an a-typical American that way!"
"I'll tell you, from my experience which is small, and my heart which is bigger, what I feel you are."
"I'll wait to hear that in person."
"Oh yes, I don't know yet. It will take years... or seconds... nobody knows."
"That's true. Perhaps both... years and seconds."
I think we have many, many seconds ahead of us now.
