We didn’t want anything – we relationship reversed sales pitched each other regularly to keep it casual and then as planned I left, well rather moved away.
I missed his birthday, possibly purposely, to which I received the following text, (partly in English and Russian) with so much meaning, if only seemingly just a little….
The Russian: You’ll miss my birthday.
Me: Solneshko (Russian diminutive name meaning Little Sun), I know. I thought about that; I’ll be at a pool party in Texas.
The Russian: Take pictures. Hey, I miss you, but only a little – you were fun and interesting.
Me: Awe. That’s the only way I want to be missed, only a little. And maybe I might miss you too, but only just a little.
The Russian: The pleasure was all mine. Please have a blast.
La Fin.
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Just like Carries first date with “the Russian” Alexander Petrovsky, — well, granted there was no red Russian tea room at midnight, nor a non-bathing living art exhibit, but the randomness and perfectness of the evening, all still the same.
He was taller than I remembered and more handsome. He looked more rested and serene.
We went to Café Bleu and he ordered the wine, a supremely delicious Rhone. I had the ahi which was spicy but tres bien with the cherry sauce. Great recommendation from our British waiter. Cheerio!
It was Mardi Gras so we silently watched the colorful Fat Tuesday revelers. There were no beads for us that night, but just like on Sex and the City, one amazing first kiss that tasted of cherries.
