#17 - A business card
By Your Muse Clio on November 29, 2013
When I met my husband, I was living in France and after a trip to New York for my job, I took some time off to visit some friends in Baltimore, flew to Oklahoma, drive to Dallas, then to Nashville Tennessee.
I like to drive a lot, you can follow your own rhythm, stop to look at a beautiful point of views, start to be friends with truck drivers that you pass and that will do the same few miles later, flashing their headlights as of a complicity. It happens often that driving back home, I feel the need to go on and never stop, for the obvious reason that I have to face the emptiness of my marital life each time I step in my house.
Ten years go, I was in Nashville for a four days event, and I may have talk twice to my future husband during this stay. The last day, we had a lunch with a group of people and he was also invited. I do not know if he sat near me by chance, but I found him at my right and he tried to engage the conversation. A very easy task, because I never stop to talk for more than five minutes, and sometimes even in my sleep. He asked about my life, job and France that he never visited. As a thousand time in my life, I handled my business card at the end of the meal, with a sentence. "If one day you want to visit France, you are most welcome".
I traveled a lot around the world for my job, and you meet every day someone to exchange a business card with. It can be the passenger sitting near you for a fifteen hours flight between Paris and Singapore, the woman that lost her luggage in Rome because they were in strike and cannot understand what the locals are trying to explain or the nice couple in vacation that wonder what is in your plate and if it is safe because they started to have stomach problems.
What is absolutely incredible is that nobody never contact you, call, email, or send a Christmas card. Travelers are trying to hang to each other when they are in a foreign territory and forget completely about their encounters as soon as they are back in their countries. They store their passport in a drawer and I wonder if my business card took the same direction, or ended between two pages of a brochure detailing Giza's pyramids and postcards never sent.
So two weeks later, back to France, I found a message on my answering machine, asking me if I was serious about receiving him. I always respect my words, even if sometimes I wish I had bite my tongue, so I returned the call and made a formal invitation. I had to do some trips for my work, so we settled a date two months later, mid-November.
My husband is a very attractive man, tall, beautiful blue eyes, with a very restful attitude. I think what I like the most is his butt, even if I do not have the opportunity to see it very often. He is the kind of man that everyone love, your mother, your best friend, the stranger who walks her dog and the dog as well. He is well educated, intelligent and reserved, what means completely introvert, which I discovered later on.
The trip was for three weeks, and he nicely told me that he could finish alone in case I could not take all this time off. I was working as a consultant and traveling for companies, so it was easy for me to arrange my schedule. He will have time to see a lot in three weeks and I programmed to pick him at Charles de Gaulle, visit the capital , Versailles, les châteaux de La Loire, Saint-Emilion and the coast from Bordeaux to les Sables d'Olonnes. Don't you feel sorry for these people who lost my business card? I have family everywhere in France, one of the advantage to have a big one, so we were welcomed and we had rarely to stay in hotels.
We started early in the trip to have a love relation, but it was predictable. He was coming in my life at the right time. I had found a balance between my personal life and my job. If I did not have anyone, it was by choice. I did not believe anymore that I could enter in a long term relation, and certainly not in a marriage.
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