Bouquets of Chocolate (manxman)

Memoirs #6

Paris had marked a first for many things in my life. It was the first time I'd ever lived with Jordie, the first time I'd lived away from home, the first time I'd even gone abroad, the first time I'd been without a place to go to every day, the first time out of education, and the first time I truly experimented with my sexuality.

Initially, coming to Paris felt disorienting in a way I wouldn't have ever been able to anticipate.

Jordie came with a purpose. I came here with Jordie as my purpose. And in those first few months, I was sure I'd made a mistake. I shouldn't have followed Jordie all the way to another country just because I knew it would put him at ease. But every time I steeled myself to bring it up, he would come home so happy and grounded in himself and where he was in life, I was never able to take that away from him. So I stayed.

Initially I spent a lot of my time walking the streets of Paris aimlessly, getting lost in the best and sometimes worst ways, finding places that would become important to me and places that I rather never remember. I met people that shaped the way I grew and matured, regardless of how I thought of them in the moment.

Back then, I didn't have a job, nor was I attending the fancy culinary school Jordie came there for; it gave me time to find myself, although I didn't know that at the time. The only semi stable part of that time was language school, but that only really lasted a few weeks.

I met Lucien, or Luce, as he insisted I call him, at a club. I'd gone alone once again, not wanting to even bother asking Jordie because I knew he was busy. Plus, it was the middle of the week anyway. For a change though, I didn't come with the express goal of finding a partner for the night. I usually did. Being outside the supervision of my parents and away from a social system that was so ingrained into my daily life, it was easier to experiment, to figure out who I was. I'd slept with countless people by the time the first few months had passed and it was reckless and stupid. Having Jordie in that flat we shared, likely waiting for me, was often the only reason I made it home at night or in the morning at all. I realised fairly quickly that I had a bit of strange relationship with sex. I craved it often, and it was never really on an emotional level. I never craved a relationship, not even on a curiosity level. The two or so relationships I'd had while at Sixth Form had been serious then, but were largely forgettable now. I didn't want or need the attachment in general and no single person, other than Jordie whom I was trying hard to get over, had ever made me want it either. Instead, I loved the rush I got from a hookup, a temporary companion, and I pursued that often. Sometimes, it was so brief, I wouldn't even stay to shower and head straight home, enjoying however long a night walk it ended up being. And when I got the 'you smell like sex' comment from Jordie one too many times, I took up smoking too. Now I got the 'you smell like cigarettes' comment instead, but somehow that bothered me less. Later, I would realise how lucky I was to never have been jumped in the middle of my sometimes ridiculously long night walks, or to have been taken advantage of by strangers. Although there was that one time where someone spiked my drink, luckily it wasn't anything that did more than loosen me up a little and nothing happened that I wouldn't have otherwise agreed to either. I still stopped taking drinks from other people since. It's often when you're already on a downwards spiral that you don't see the direction it's taking.

I hadn't known it at the time, but meeting Luce very much saved me from that a little bit.

I didn't go out looking for a hookup that night. I wouldn't have dared. Jordie would have skinned me alive if I slept into today of all days. It was already quarter past midnight and while I knew Jordie would be knocked out because he didn't get home from school earlier than 11pm at best these days, it somehow still felt wrong. This was the first time I'd ever gone out the night before Valentine's and it felt entirely foreign to me. Lots of couples were out together celebrating, and here I was nursing my drink on my own. It wasn't new to me, this had been me often when I was still settling into Paris, but tonight it made me feel uncomfortable.