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Sunday
Jul292012

Two weeks I don't remember in the most beautiful city on the planet

So...Keppra. It works just faboo for blocking seizures and eradicating memory...up to a point. After the adventures in the waiting room, I was willing to gobble up anything to keep me upright, so I did. We have photos of ourselves all over Paris- kissing on a bridge with Eiffel Tower in the background, hands on the produce at the market, enveloped by the silk flowing from street side shops... I don't remember anything, and I will always be sorry about that.

I misspoke- I DO remember some things...
One night, C3 & I went to down to the Red District with our friend DeLa. Clay had an errand to run and left us to wait at a cafe, where DeLa immediately pissed off the owner. We were thrown out, and we spent the next hour or so looking for Clay, to no avail. I had to sleep; my medication was making me sick and I needed to just find somewhere to sit, at least. DeLa brought me back to his hotel- some nasty hole with one bathroom, period, for the whole joint. I collapsed on the filthy floor.
Hours later, I was able to get up, and I tried to get out of there...I just wanted Clay. The hotel's front door was deadbolted. Clawing at the lock, I screamed and screamed...and I was trapped there. I found my way back to the room, and in despair I grabbed the open bottle of St. Emillion and waited till dawn.
When the sun rose, I ran to the door again, this time with DeLa, to be greeted by a Nazi in a bathrobe- he looked me up and down, decided I was a prostitute and threw me out...thank every saint and Jesus, too.
But then it was cold and raining out on the street, and I had to get from the Seine to Sacre Coure dressed in my evening clothes, in heels, of course. DeLa escorted me, and at some point he dragged me into a shop and bought a 6€ coat to wrap around me. I still have it...
Somehow, we got back to Montmarte, to the flat, to
my beloved, who'd spent the night checking hospitals, walking the streets, searching for me as I searched for him. If there is anything I got from the whole experience, I realized that I truly loved Clay, I needed him, and that he felt the same. Intensity of emotion isn't farfetched when the ship is sinking; so much more when you know it's just you and your mate at the oars. Float on, lovers...

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Reader Comments (1)

What a shame that your medication hindered such a beautiful trip!

June 14, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterAsons

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