Vignettes from France

- I felt slightly concerned that I was the one usually wrapped around him instead of vice versa as it had been when I visited over the summer, but it didn't matter enough for me to do anything about it. I was half-afraid if I turned away he would take it as an indication I wanted to stop cuddling instead of that I wanted to spoon.

- On a slightly related note, my cuddling tendencies while asleep meant I kept moving closer towards him, and nearly pushing him off the bed. Sometimes I would just climb over him and switch sides if this was a problem. I told him to feel free to roll/ push me in my sleep, but he was vaguely uncomfortable with this. I was very slightly bothered by the idea that he might not want to cuddle, thus was moving away.

- Before trip, was very very worried about arrival of period, prayed it would come before, hated body when seemed it would come during (would have put damper on most of things). Was incredibly thankful when it didn't, though kept thinking it was.

- At some point during the endless channel surfing, there was one channel that said it only started broadcasting after 10:30 pm. Somehow we missed this channel every day (having already started on other activities by then), and I was determined to find out what it was. I had a nagging suspicion of what it might be (having had experience with European television), but we discovered that it was definitely porn. He didn't quite believe me the first time we flipped past it, but was convinced after going back briefly. There was a mildly awkward silence after this, since we were lying with me wrapped around him (as usual), but it was broken pretty soon with some sort of immature giggle on my part.

- A 'that's what she said' joke was definitely made by him at some point, he clearly knows the way to my heart without even trying.

- I told my friends we high-fived upon his successful completion, but I don't actually remember any more if this is true.

- He does this wonderful thing when I'm half-asleep or he thinks I'm asleep where he gently caresses or pats or strokes my face in a way that brings warmth to my stomach. I can't actually remember what this feels like (or even if it's entirely true) but I told all my friends about it so it probably was.

- He said my tolerance to alcohol was good for 'someone my size', which I wasn't quite sure I appreciated. A part of me enjoyed being called small indirectly, and a part didn't want to be thought of as weak. My eternal internal battle between feminism and norms/ thoughts/ upbringing. His tolerance is remarkably high.

- Nearly every thought I shared on this blog was something I ended up blurting out to him, a policy of complete honesty that worked out surprisingly well and continues mostly to this day.

- At some/ multiple points I told him that I pitied him a little for his taste in women, I believe he just (wisely) laughed.

- One time he was napping and I was awake (not uncommon), and his arm was wrapped around me and we were facing each other, and my eyes were open and I was casually studying his face, trying to memorize little details. His eyes opened and caught me staring at him, something he made fun of me about for the rest of the weekend (mostly flippantly), and I wasn't able to provide any coherent explanation.

- I mentioned that his long lasting was going to be helpful to him in the future (though further discussions with friends have taught me that sex is a whole 'nother ball game).

- My stomach had been vaguely cramping the whole time (probably due to the all-pasta diet of the previous week), and his concern and willingness to do anything to help was touching.

- I discovered what I had suspected for a while, I enjoyed greatly whenever he took more control and moved me around in bed. In terms of lifting or leading or just generally taking charge, that was what I liked most. I struggled a little with this internally - it didn't seem very women's lib to me - before deciding that feminism was about being comfortable with what you like and want. I then communicated this to him at some point on the last day (in less coherent words) and despite his slight surprise, he took it into consideration somewhat.

- The appeal of sleeping in boys' shirts is completely understandable to me now. My dad's shirts never fit me right and I didn't think I looked particularly cute even though I enjoyed the comfort. But this: the smell, the fit, the feeling - everything appeals to me and I even looked pretty nice, according to me.

- We saw a pet store at some point and I nearly died at the cuteness of the tiny puppies playing and sleeping in the window, while being aware of the somewhat clichéd nature of this moment - puppy love in its purest form. I had to drag myself away before I felt as though I was going to explode.

- A discussion we had: "Do you prefer boobs or ass?" (my suspicion was ass since he had shown it more attention). "Boobs." Not even a pause to think. "Really? I don't get why guys are so into them, they're just balls of fat." Have you ever heard a more accurate description? "So is the ass." Of course my response about the ass being functional came to me only far later. I did confess at some point that my ass was probably more sensitive, surprising him in turn.

- He had a Swiss army knife with his name on it that his family had given him, and we used it to open wine. He left it in the room the day he was late in the morning, and I played with it despite being afraid I would cut myself. I didn't, and even cleaned it for him.

- The hotel bathroom was separate from the sink/ shower area, and was behind a closed door but located right opposite the bed in a way that meant the sound of peeing was clearly audible. Once I had heard this I could no longer ignore it and as a guy he could control the trajectory and use the bathroom in an incredibly silent manner, but I had to make him leave the room/ put on my fancy new headphones from the summer in order to be able to pee.

- Didn't actually take any makeup with me on the trip, but took perfume. Priorities?

- I had been worried before the trip that my pajamas might not be cute enough, but this ended up being not a concern at all. When I did wear pajamas, it was usually his shirt with my underwear or shorts - hereto undiscovered levels of comfort.

- Two months before the trip we hadn't even kissed and I didn't even think he liked me even a little.

- I accidentally left my stuffed dog in the hotel room. It was one my parents had given me (some years before) and that I decided to bring on a strange impulse but left on the desk the entire trip facing away from the bed. I thought I glanced over the hotel room before I left but I suppose sadness counts for something. Frantic texts and emails were sent his way, and he retrieved it. Now it is with him, and I'm not entirely unhappy for him to have a continual reminder of my presence.