I think about the time I helplessly fell in love at the end of December 2018. The trip I made to South Africa was one that had been on my mind for months, but it was difficult to plan for. As the year closed, I was put on a new regimen of pills that simply messed up everything normal about me and then I underwent a procedure that required a two-week rest, especially from air travel.
Immediately, after
the rest, I was in Germany for work and it was there that I decided, if I did
not take that holiday, I risked regretting it. I jetted out on Christmas Eve
and arrived in Johannesburg on Christmas Day. Meanwhile, I was back on my old pills and feeling good in myself.
Mona Lisa is mine
Three days later, I saw
this amazing person, not that I dared approach because he just looked like he
would have eyes for something else. I resigned myself to the equanimity of a museum
visitor. You can view Mona Lisa, but you cannot take it off the wall and walk
home with it.
Reticent and shy as
he suggests he is, he was the one who made the first move, saying Hello and that
was the beginning of history. I just had a crazy thought that for the days
until his birthday, which is the 7th of July, I might just write
something about falling in love.
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