Kiwi

In less than 2 weeks, I have a man arriving from half way around the world to see me. To spend time with me. To be mine. For 2 weeks. Im scared out of my mind, but Im not.Im panicking, Im freaking, but Im not. Here's the story of Blair.

Nighttime. Weekday. Im researching alone and having dinner in Saint Germain. I overhear English with an accent. Something like Australian. I look over to discover a stunning man fumbling with his order to the French server. I smile. The winning one, as the best chick lit would describe. The smile that could make even Hitler blush. We lock eyes for just a moment but then I quickly look away still smiling of course. Its then that I think he says something to me, but I am so lost in that moment I literally just see his mouth move, but I dont hear a sound. Everything is quiet. He moves closer for a reply and all I can beautifully conjure up is, "huh?"

"Do you neeed a light?" he repeats. He is keen to the ever-infamous purse dig. Im gonna have to be careful with this one.

"Oh. Yes please... would you like one?" offering him a Parly in my nonchalant, but clearly intrigued way.

"No thank you, I dont smoke."

The man with the lighter who doesnt smoke. A gentleman across generations. This says to me he doesnt judge. He is open. He wants to make my life easier and please me. What a catch!
Have I been single for too long? Perhaps. Is this man charming with an accent? Yes, perhaps. Am I reaching here? Yes perhaps.

On we go..

We sit. We talk. Turns out he is a kiwi from NZ, but he lives down under in Australia. Fascinating.He is a hotel architect. Fascinating. He is in town for business. Fasc... ok you get the point. He is a sagitairre, like yours truly. Born same year and 12 days before me. Its fate. Its the bottle of wine, its the exchange of email addresses. Its the fact that we spend hours talking and drinking and then what feels close to reminiscing... Its refreshing.

Its here that our story ends without even a kiss. Without sex. With though, an undeniable chemistry and attraction that 3 months later still has me completely focused and well, smitten. Its weird. I cant really explain what happened.
Since this June, every day, without fail, we "sext", we chat, have phone calls, facebook, emails etc...sometimes we are doing 2 or 3 of these at the same time. Everytime my fone 'beep beeps,' the girls all exclaim, "kiwi!" highlighted with their outstanding french accents. We're already one big happy family.

So he arrives August 14 to Paris. My sister's Birthday, so a dual celebration of sorts. But I've got this feeling that when I go to meet him at the airport, on this day, within the first minute I will know. I will know if Ive been in my head or if this person really is the person I most adore at the moment.
"You'll just know," say my Mom and Dad the eternal lovebirds. And I admire them for always believing in reality. But what I really admire here is me going 3 months without sex.
The girls will be coming over the night before his arrival to sufficiently booze up with me, plan outfits and help clean the apartment. This should help calm the nerves and ease the excitement that yes, continues to grow.

So heres the tale of Blair, and of what could be my essential forbidden fruit, Le Kiwi.