Yes, tears making it hard to see right now. There are many wonderful writers to follow on this new thingy, Substack, and I can't follow nor support every one, but this is one of the most perfect essays I've ever read, and I want to be sure I never, ever miss another one. Upgrading, my beautiful, complicated, and wise young man.
Ah you! I've never been to Paris. I wanted to go when I was seventeen but instead I had a baby and then another and some husbands, jobs, chickens, but the closest I got to living my dream as a starving gamin in a smoky garret was when I camped on the French protectorate of St. Pierre and Miquelon. Off Newfoundland. Cheap wine but no pain purdue. Someday. I wonder if it is inevitable that Audrey Hepburn's ghost accompany one? I don't mind, I'd just like to prepare.
You're fishing! "Wow, just wow." as in the only response I could type out as I was so overcome by your vivid writing and the emotions it evoked of Paris, friendships, and love and life pains lost.
I had to wait for my work shift to end to read this carefully, and what a great finish to this work day/week! Really, so beautiful Michael - for the duration of your story I was enjoying my virtual stay in Paris, and in love - did it have to be over so soon? You must know I’m crushin right now. And whoever that guy was who dumped you, I hope he eventually figured out he was a fool, but then Shaun I always had the curse of looking at a boy’s eyes instead of his other “attributes.” IMO the sexiest guys are intelligent/smart/clever!
Yes, tears making it hard to see right now. There are many wonderful writers to follow on this new thingy, Substack, and I can't follow nor support every one, but this is one of the most perfect essays I've ever read, and I want to be sure I never, ever miss another one. Upgrading, my beautiful, complicated, and wise young man.
This is gorgeous in every way, Michael 🥲
Ah you! I've never been to Paris. I wanted to go when I was seventeen but instead I had a baby and then another and some husbands, jobs, chickens, but the closest I got to living my dream as a starving gamin in a smoky garret was when I camped on the French protectorate of St. Pierre and Miquelon. Off Newfoundland. Cheap wine but no pain purdue. Someday. I wonder if it is inevitable that Audrey Hepburn's ghost accompany one? I don't mind, I'd just like to prepare.
Mercouri's Oscar belongs on your mantle, Michael! Beautifully written and voiced! The audio version slays me.
Love this. Hate that you suffered.
You're fishing! "Wow, just wow." as in the only response I could type out as I was so overcome by your vivid writing and the emotions it evoked of Paris, friendships, and love and life pains lost.
This is a beautiful story, Michael
This is beautiful. What a gift to be loved so well. 💖
This is the most beautiful essay ever. And the pain baby - oh, dear, Michael - that's exactly what it's like.
I had to wait for my work shift to end to read this carefully, and what a great finish to this work day/week! Really, so beautiful Michael - for the duration of your story I was enjoying my virtual stay in Paris, and in love - did it have to be over so soon? You must know I’m crushin right now. And whoever that guy was who dumped you, I hope he eventually figured out he was a fool, but then Shaun I always had the curse of looking at a boy’s eyes instead of his other “attributes.” IMO the sexiest guys are intelligent/smart/clever!
Wow. Perfect.
Love the way this beautiful and poignant story unfolds.
You are such a beautiful writer, Michael! I smiled and teared up multiple times. Brilliantly done.
How wonderful! Yes!
Wow, just wow.
That was just lovely. And “some food blogger named David Lebovitz” was a cherry on top.