Modern Love Stories: Part One

The first time I ever saw him, I immediately thought to myself “oh boy, he’s cute”. That was almost five years ago in Montpellier, France, where we both happened to attend the same language school to improve our French skills. There was, of course, no way of knowing this guy was going to become one of the most important people in my life – I mean, what are the odds?


It would take some time until we would actually have a real conversation. Until then we would accidentally keep bumping into each other on our way to school in the morning: a slightly awkward “hi” followed by a “see you around…”, which only made my crush on him grow exponentially. Eventually, we did end up talking. Talking led to what I guess one could describe as a ‘summer fling’ (only that it was actually spring): cinema and dinner dates, excursions to the beach, driving along the coast of Southern France on a motorcycle…

[Image: pexels]

Looking back, I believe that those three months must have been some of the happiest and most carefree of my life. Part of the reason why I cherish the memories of those months so much is because it was the first time, I ever truly fell in love with someone. Don’t get me wrong, of course, it wasn’t all a perfect fairytale (though in hindsight I do like to think of it as such) and a part of my naïve self knew that it wasn’t very convenient to fall for a guy that I was probably never going to see again.


In true summer fling-style we, perhaps idiotically, agreed on ‘living in the moment’, not allowing us to waste any time on being sad or thinking about what was to come after those three months. The idea of a long-distance relationship came up a couple of times but we both deemed it to be too difficult, too unrealistic and after all, we had only known each other for a couple of weeks. Besides, the whole concept of a summer fling is just that: it’s just a fling – a thing which has an expiration date, and we quietly agreed upon that ours was to be on May 30th, 2015.


I vividly remember walking him to the train station that day, thinking “this is it; I will never see you again”. He would go back to Norway and I would go back to Switzerland – back to our families, friends and normal lives and this would all just be an episode in our lives that we would look back on fondly and maybe also a bit wistfully. But sure enough, I got a text from him five minutes after we had said our goodbyes and he had gotten on the train. And on the next day, and the day after that. We kept on talking and have been talking every day since.


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