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.
Thank you, my dear. In the end, I think the pain was worth a week in Paris with Thrasso, who is/was far superior to the other fellow in nearly every respect.
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!
The eyes definitely have it for me, too. As for the other fellow, I hope he is on a better path and have my suspicions that I am correct in this. I think once I let go of all my sadness and anger and a few of those other unpleasant emotions, I was able to step back and get a clearer picture and understand him (and myself) a little better. Also, my Paris companion was a hell of a lot more fun.
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.
I can't begin to tell you what reading your comment meant to me. Thank you!
This is gorgeous in every way, Michael 🥲
thank you, Jolene.
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 have lived so many lives, Jan! And the bit about Hepburn's ghost hits closer to home than you might think, but that is a story for another time...
Mercouri's Oscar belongs on your mantle, Michael! Beautifully written and voiced! The audio version slays me.
Thank you, my favorite pince-nez-wearing fellow. Mercouri has an Oscar? I thought she was robbed by a breathy, tracheotomized Elizabeth Taylor!
Love this. Hate that you suffered.
Thank you, my dear. In the end, I think the pain was worth a week in Paris with Thrasso, who is/was far superior to the other fellow in nearly every respect.
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 was ABSOLUTELY fishing. I appreciate this comment, my friend.
This is a beautiful story, Michael
Thanks, my friend.
This is beautiful. What a gift to be loved so well. 💖
And it only took about a dozen people and traveling to another continent to make me realize it. (And thank you.)
This is the most beautiful essay ever. And the pain baby - oh, dear, Michael - that's exactly what it's like.
You just made my morning. Thank you.
And you mine.
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!
The eyes definitely have it for me, too. As for the other fellow, I hope he is on a better path and have my suspicions that I am correct in this. I think once I let go of all my sadness and anger and a few of those other unpleasant emotions, I was able to step back and get a clearer picture and understand him (and myself) a little better. Also, my Paris companion was a hell of a lot more fun.
Wow. Perfect.
If it was so perfect, then why did I not catch that I misspelled "perdu" in the title until just now? But I truly appreciate the sentiment.
Maybe it's like the Shakers. Didn't they intentionally put one error in their crafts to stay humble?
I like that. Or like Charles Babbage and his Difference Engine!
Love the way this beautiful and poignant story unfolds.
Life has a funny way of doing that sometimes. And thank you.
You are such a beautiful writer, Michael! I smiled and teared up multiple times. Brilliantly done.
I will just sit here a moment and bask in your compliments. Thank you!
How wonderful! Yes!
Thanks, Duffey!
Wow, just wow.
Is it THAT BAD? We are several years overdue for one of our lunch dates, you know.
That was just lovely. And “some food blogger named David Lebovitz” was a cherry on top.
Thank you, Jennifer. And David is very used to me not kissing his ass (although I actually like him a lot).