First meeting
Since I was 20 years old, I have my leg in love with a boy with whom I have a toxic relationship. IDRIC [name changed, others not]. Sometimes we are together, sometimes leaves me to live your life and then return, so we are together again. In 1988, I am 25 years old, working in a Parisian research laboratory. In the coffee maker, I know a young man. He is handsome as a prince and works on another floor. After some exchanged words, I find genuine and without prejudice, and it seems gentle. Thomas. At that time, I am not with Cédric, but it doesn’t matter, because I could never appeal to a prince.
When he invites me to cinema, I can’t believe it. When he kisses me after several appointments, I tell myself: “Don’t dream too much, Laurence.” After our first night together, I find it incredible. In a relationship with him, I feel good, but I wonder if this calm and serene state is love. Because with Cédric, it was stress, passion, fear, discomfort. If there is nothing like that, is it still love? But it doesn’t matter: when his thesis ends, Thomas will go elsewhere for his postdoc, it will be the end of the dream, he will leave me. When he tells me that he loves me, I am miraculously so stable and balanced it can be with some like me.
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