Chapter 8 in R.M. Dolin’s book, “The Dangling Conversation,” April 22, 2022
KYLE: “It is a big deal, especially when not properly applied because it leads to all kinds of awkward situations and embarrassing misunderstandings. So, I ask you again, is he a ‘Tu,’ or a ‘Vous’? I agree it seems like a silly play on words and you can even be tempted to argue it’s what politicians call a difference without distinction, but I assure you, the French are very precise in their use of words, which is why you and I need to establish what this Henry fella is to you and your life. I maintain, as I have all along, you should be keeping things at the ‘Vous’ level until your relationship has more fully matured, but worry you’ve already slid into ‘Tu’ status.
“Let’s go over this again, ‘Vous’ is the French translation of the English word ‘you’ when you’re in a formal situation or dealing with unfamiliar people. ‘Tu’, on the other hand, is used when addressing people close to you, like your buddies, classmates, folks you know on an informal basis, and of course romantic interests; the French call these people ‘la familière.’ For example, the French use ‘Vous’, when addressing their boss in a meeting or a policeman at a traffic stop, and ‘Tu’, when talking to family members or their sweetheart. They both mean ‘you’, but clearly, context matters; it announces to everyone both how you feel toward someone and your relationship status.
“After Nadia and I reconnect, I come to Paris as often as I can; sometimes once every six weeks and then stay for week. Even given that level of frequency we struggle mightily to find our place on the Vous-versus-Tu spectrum. While I am romantically back in her life, which totally indicates a ‘Tu’ kind of relationship, we’re not as demonstrably open as I’d like, which suggests in some bizarre way she’s relegating me to ‘Vous’ status. As you might imagine, this leaves me in a pretty precarious spot. The best way to distill this down into some sort of logic is to say I’m a ‘Tu’ in the privacy of our relationship, but for reasons that take a while to understand and are difficult to describe, I’m a ‘Vous’ to her outside world. In retrospect, I should have seen how this portends the disastrous complications that follow.
“The long and the short of it is Nadia hides me from her world, partly because she isn’t ready to admit to herself or anyone that might see us that she’s involved in a new relationship when the ink isn’t completely dry on her divorce decree. But it isn’t just that, there’s other things that don’t make much sense and are even a bit insulting. I don’t blame her, and she explains as best she can but knowing and understanding are not the same thing and I never get a grip on which bothers me more. I guess they both offend me to the point that dissecting their differences doesn’t much matter. But like I said, I can’t be angry, she’s doing the best she can to navigate a delicate and highly convoluted phase in her life that’s being driven by a lot of unfortunate tension and raw emotions that have nothing to do with me but which I can nonetheless seriously disrupt.
“I’ll give you an example, keep in mind this is just one of many; we’ll be walking down a street in Versailles holding hands while having a pleasant conversation when all the sudden, she’ll pull up in an abrupt stop, forcefully toss my hand aside, then shove me forward with a panicked push so powerful I’m catapulted down the sidewalk, so it seems we aren’t together. In the height of performing these aggressive maneuvers, she’s shouting “don’t turn around!” You can imagine how anyone near us reacts; first she’s yelling in English with a scared scream while her eyes bulge in utter terror, then she frantically looks for a place to hide while scanning other pedestrians and passing cars for whomever she needs to avoid. I can tell you on more than one occasion French men are on the verge of intervening, so I learn to hold my head down and just keep walking. Of course, after the panic passes, she’s super apologetic. Her explanation is that she either just saw her Ex, or someone who’d tell her Ex, that she’s with someone.
“I’ll give you given your history of dealing with a crazed narcissistic Ex, that her reaction is reasonable, which is why I suppose I tolerate it in the first place. I keep telling her that if she needs me to have a ‘conversation’ with her Ex I’m more than willing; and just so you know, when a cowboy says he’s going to have a conversation with someone, he’s not going there to talk. Well for reasons I’ll explain next, that’s exactly the wrong reaction on my part; sort of like tossing gasoline on a fire because it only causes her more stress and panicked anxiety. The thing is, her Ex is a catalyst, but not the main thing terrorizing her, and it takes me a long to realize that; which accounts for why I get things so wrong for so long.
“A crazy Ex seems like a logical driver, right? We’ve all got one somewhere in our past, and on the surface, he’s completely bat-shit crazy and aggressively mean toward her, which is why he and I need to have a conversation. But it isn’t only that, it’s way more convoluted and filled with nuances that seem more straight forward than they actually are. Which is why, like I said, I don’t blame her. And this behavior applies to any time we’re out in public; I admit to feeling like a kept man or someone sneaking around with a married woman, which just so you know, violates rule one for how to be a respectable gentleman, namely, “never mess around with a married woman;” nothing good’s going to come from that. Mark that down as the gospel according or Kyle.
“I assume you get the part about being found out and why it messes with her so much. It’s horrible for sure, but what gets her way more agitated, and honestly just plain terrified, but not in the physical way many women fear a man’s reaction, but on a much deeper level, is this fear of what can happen if her Ex finds out she’s with another man and accuses her of being a scandalously unfit mother for their children. Like I said, it takes me a long time to appreciate how deeply this impacts her, and what’s worse, is her fear that he’ll use her relationship with me to turn their kids against her. I think a lot of women either don’t care or have figured out some sort of strategy for dealing with this but Nadia’s so afraid of the consequences of being found out I start to worry she’ll opt to be alone rather than risk getting caught with me.
“Like I said, I completely understand her panicked trepidations but to be honest don’t see it as a big deal, I suppose because it has no consequence for me; if anything, only opportunity. There is of course the opportunity to have a conversation with her Ex, which I’m sorta looking forward to, but also an opportunity to become more integrated into her life. But that doesn’t happen, and I eventually get good with the work-around, I mean I’m not in violation of my primary relationship rule and to be honest, there’s an element of excitement and intrigue in being a ‘kept man’, so to speak. I even convince myself that her willingness to see me given the grave risks she’s undertaking is a sign her and I have established a super strong bond that’s the foundation for a lasting relationship. Still the same, it’s a damn strange thing to be violently and unexpectedly shoved down the sidewalk by the woman you love.
“She’s constantly reassuring herself this silliness will soon be over; just a sidestep along her path toward obtaining freedom and a new lease on life. She even outlines a process whereby we can come out in the open that starts with her Ex finding someone new. Her rational, which makes total sense, is once he’s involved with someone he can’t stand in judgment of her life and use our relationship against her. However, from there her process becomes a lot more murky and way more convoluted because she lays out a string of criteria involving her children with no clear metrics. I don’t think her kids are any different from other children of divorce, they don’t see the build-up to their parent’s separation, only the impact. Her kids didn’t see the years of verbal abuse and emotional torment Nadia endured before deciding she’d had enough, all they saw was their mom breaking up a happy family. To say they’re angry is describing their relationship with Nadia on a good day, so an essential and necessary part of her process toward becoming free is helping her kids work through their anger to the point they stop blaming her for the divorce.
“Again, I totally get how this makes sense and certainly don’t want to be the factor for her life blowing up over something as silly as being seen walking down the street with someone new. It does seem though, that the further we go along, the more rigid her constraints become and the more distant her freedom appears on the horizon. I get that I can’t be a priority right now and am content to just spend time with her with no added pressure or expectation. At one point I decide what we need is time together away from her world with all its pressures and constraints. The French have multiple periods throughout the year when long holidays are possible and during one holiday her Ex is taking the kids to Germany for three weeks, so I invite Nadia to visit me in America; she says she’ll only come if I introduce her to family and friends as my fiancée; according to her, we’re too old to be referring to ourselves as boyfriend and girlfriend.
“On the one hand I’m pleased as punch she thinks of us in those terms and I’ll be proud to call her my fiancée, but then she backs out without a reasonable explanation; says America is too violent and can’t risk having something happen to her and her kids not having a mom, which as far as I’m concerned is utter bullshit; it’s a sign that something’s not right. I struggle to accept her decision because for me, I can’t see how we go from being engaged to wherever it is we now seem to be. Knowing and understanding are as elusively diametric as seeing and accepting; after our trip to America fiasco, I start noticing that whenever I visit, she doesn’t talk anymore about the day she’ll be available to live her life in complete freedom, of when we can love each other unafraid of all its consequences.
“I remember the night I ask her straight up if I’m a ‘Vous’ or ‘Tu’ in her life. I regret that, but for whatever reason that last shove in my back on our last walk was the metaphoric straw that breaks this camel’s back. We come home from our walk and have a glass of wine, then I have another, and by the end of supper have drunk enough that I become regrettable. It’s unfair for me to ask and I really wish I hadn’t because I honestly believe that up until that moment, she hasn’t given it much thought. Of course, she says I’m a ‘Tu’; even laughs a little while saying it, but I can see, I see by the way she looks away and how there’s a slight hesitation in her voice; she doesn’t fully believe it. I see the truth as plain as day but chose instead to accept the lie I want so desperately to believe; convincing myself things will eventually turn true if I just wait for her mystical process to work itself to completion.”
ISABELLE: “Henry can be a real shit when it comes to your whole “Tu,” versus “Vous,” thing. He’s not tossing me to the curb like Nadia, but he’s just as confusing when it comes to figuring out what’s what. For one thing, he has an extremely unhealthy connection with his Ex girlfriend; he denies it, but I swear they talk every damn day. It seems to me if you’re done with someone then you should be done; not that I would every do it, but I bet he wouldn’t find it very nice if I talk to my Ex all the time. I’d love to learn more about the Tu versus Vous status of his post-relationship shit-show, cause something’s not adding up if you ask me. The experts I searched up on-line agree he has a rescue complex, which, according to them, makes it almost impossible for him to form relationships because rescuers put everyone else’s needs aside as they focus on rescuing the object of their attention.
“Henry can’t make me a priority because he’s too wrapped up tending to the over dramatic needs of his Ex. Oh and this woman, she’s a classic manipulator; lives her life bouncing from one crisis to another and every time her world blows up, there he is, swooping in for the rescue. I ask you, is this normal; don’t answer, I’m being rhetorical. I mean what’s the point anyway, you’ll just say, “Isabelle, why the hell are you with this guy?” Then I’ll say, “cause except for that, everything else is pretty good.” And you’ll come back with, “well, that’s a pretty big ‘except for,’” to which I’ll assert “I know but-,” then there’ll be this big, long back and forth about that, so why even get going.
“I’ll tell you how our argument ends, at some point my rational defenses erode and become less logical till we get to the point where you say, “Isabelle, what the hell are you doing?” And after you’ve pushed me past all my quick and easy answers, I’ll say, “I can fix him.” We both know that’s not true, a rescue complex can’t be fixed, which means even if he can pry himself away from that witch, he’ll just start looking for his next new someone to rescue, and right now, unfortunately for me, I’m on pretty solid footing; at least as far as I can tell and see no need to pretend to be pathetic just to win his attention.”
KYLE: “I don’t know that you captured me completely, but bravo for certainly not being too far off; clearly, I don’t need to come to this park anymore, you’re more than capable of holding down my end of our conversations. I get Henry’s whole damsel in distress trigger; it’s how God made us meager men; rescue and protect. I’ll even concede that he goes too far, but what’s interesting is that my crime is I usually don’t go far enough. I replay my kept man days wondering how I could have been better, should I have confronted her Ex and tell him to quite being such a shit, should I have bowed out of her life until all her conflicts are resolved so as not to add additional stress, or should I have done more to hold her and tell her things will be okay; that a day will come when all the pressures pulling us apart abate. I do the best I can to support her with kindness and empathy, but I am after all, only human and know I fall far short.
“There’s one episode I’m not particularly proud of and of all the moments I wish I can get back, that’s the one. It’s my last night in France before flying home after one of my visits, a late summer night with an early fall chill in the air and a pre-rain grayness that somehow freshens feelings lying dormant. Nadia and I are walking around Versailles looking for a restaurant to celebrate our last night together for at least the next six weeks, I’d been dispatched to the market earlier that afternoon to get stuff for tomorrow’s breakfast. I want Nadia to come but she refuses; says there are too many possibilities for her Ex to see us. Normally this is a non-issue but for some reason today it seems to throw a cog in my gears.
“Reluctantly, I go to the market alone to get the damn food, but on the way back I stop for a glass of wine at a sidewalk café even though it’s raining. For the record, I don’t drink in the afternoon, but make an exception. I sit there having my own little pity party going over how unfair and emasculating all this is; the more I stew the more frustrated I become. Luckily, by the time my wine is finished I’ve reconciled myself and am back to being good old understanding, push me down the sidewalk, me. I even rationalize it’s okay to have these feelings of frustration because it’s not the thoughts or feelings we should worry about, it’s acting on them in regrettable ways that’s the concern. Mark that down as one of my pearls of wisdom.
“By the time I get back to Nadia’s apartment it’s time for le goûter, which is a wonderful French tradition of having a late afternoon snack. Nadia’s prepared a nice table of desserts and cheeses, along with a bottle of wine; the one thing I probably don’t need. After our snack we go for a walk in the woods which is to be followed by our celebration dinner. The walk is great, in the seclusion of the forest we get to hold hands and have a pleasant, relaxed conversation about something meaningless, like the impact of electric vehicles on the French utility grid. Just so you know, not all our conversations are about love and the deeper meaning of life, but that doesn’t mean they’re any less profound.
“We come out of the woods just as the rain restarts and boom, instantly we’re back on the streets and the peaceful relaxing mood of our forest walk vanishes like a Parisian sun ducking behind a storm cloud. The tension and stress levels ratchet up to inescapable levels as now full focus must be devoted to preemptive detection of her Ex, or anyone who might know her Ex, or anyone who might inadvertently run into her Ex, or her kids, or anyone who knows her kids, or anyone who might attend the same schools as her kids; and of course the la familière of any and all of the afore mentioned demographics.
“Without being fully aware, an anger creeps over me; it’s not so much anger I soon realize as jealousy. I don’t fully understand my emotions at the time because I’m mad but not really; I mean who can be because it’s not her fault. What I am is jealous of this man who’s no longer bound to her yet has such a profound strangle hold on Nadia’s life causing him to be a higher priority than me, and to be honest, it’s a new emotion. For most of my life, whenever reasons for jealousy arise, I find some sort of logical way to rationalize their dismissal. I mean obviously I’m sad and anxious over undesirable outcomes but never jealous; I just never see the relative economy in it. But there I am, walking beside this woman consumed with being discovered, fully expecting to be violently shoved from behind at any moment and all I can think about is this jealous rage I’m not sure what to do with.
“I’m ashamed to admit it, but my first taste of this raw emotion does not manifest itself in a very positive way. I recall this memory with the clarity of watching an old Bogart and Bacall movie in black and white; we’re crossing a deserted road under a streetlamp that’s aglow in early evening fog, and I start ranting about the stupidity of constantly having to hide. I demand to know where her Ex lives so I can have that long overdue conversation. From there my descent into hell has no bottom, before long I’m going on about how she has no need to worry to about me in her kid’s lives, I have no desire what so ever to be involved in helping her raise her kids; it isn’t true and I don’t know why I say it, and as I’ve said, I’m deeply remorseful of my viscously disrespectful behavior that Nadia clearly does not deserve.
“She absorbs my rage like a heavyweight fighter shakes off a left hook but by the time we finish dinner, even after countless apologies, I sense things between us have gone cold, not in an “I’m pissed at you,” kind of way, but in a “there’s no coming back,” kind of permanence. When I get to heaven and Saint Peter asks what I have to atone for, my unfortunate behavior that last night in France before saying goodbye to the woman I so love and never want to hurt in any way, will be the only regret Pete and I have to reconcile.”
ISABELLE: “Nadia doesn’t deserve to be the object of your frustration, but at the same time you aren’t completely out of line given the weird way things are. Everything comes with context and given what’s happened with me and my failed relationships, maybe I’m the one rescuing Henry. I know you told me to go slow, the four-month plan and all, but relationships have a rhythm all their own and yet, things happen as they happen, and the thing is, I don’t know how to feel about it. We didn’t really start out with one of those romance novel love at first sight kind of relationships, so much as we acknowledged there could be something between us. You see I’ve known Henry many years, social acquaintances, and through all the crap both of us have endured, we seem to be like satellites to each other; never really connecting, just hovering around in each other’s orbit. Love is funny that way, sometimes we find it where we already are but never bother to notice.
“Here’s a glorious example of his dysfunction, a few weeks ago his Ex’s mom dies, tragic I know but you should have seen the way he drops everything to be at her side; says he needs to support her in her time of need. I mean it’s one thing to drop a dime, maybe send flowers, but he jumps in to help with funeral arrangements and even does her grocery shopping. And I guess I had a lamppost moment like you and lost it, accusing him of still being in love with her. It would have been one thing to help here and there, but just watching the way she not only became his top priority, she was his only priority and that, well until you mentioned it I was unaware, but that made me jealous.
“Now I’m not as certain he has a rescue complex so much as he’s still in love with her and I don’t know which is worse. My story differs from yours in two distinct ways; first, I didn’t find a way to logically rationalize my feelings, and to be honest, I didn’t even try. Second, I am in no way ashamed or remorseful about calling him out; he deserved it plain and simple and if anything, I was too kind. My angst comes from having too much self-esteem to tolerate this kind of disrespect, but at the same time recognizing Henry’s a good man; maybe the best man I’ll ever know; it’d be foolish to toss that away for what could very well be forgivable foolishness.
“Listening to you causes me to question which one of us is wrong. Henry says I’m being unreasonable, that just because he no longer loves his Ex, it doesn’t mean that he didn’t once, or that how things ended negates all the joy and tenderness that came before. He says it’s not even a question of love or former love, but about human decency, that when you stop loving someone it doesn’t mean you stop caring about them and don’t want to see them hurt or suffering. Okay, fair enough, but again like you and your lamppost moment, a person reaches a point where enough is enough.
“That’s probably not a good example; now that I say it, Henry’s a good man with a kind soul and of course he did what anyone would do in that situation. That doesn’t mean I have to like it, or not be jealous. But there are so many other instances that don’t fall under this umbrella, currently, he’s helping her deal with her mom’s finances, stuff like transferring funds and setting up new accounts. To be clear, he can do this over the phone, but no, he’s there right now helping her fill out forms and giving her advice on how to invest her newfound wealth. I don’t care that he calls me every hour, he’s still with her and not with me and that, metaphorically, is a huge ass shove down the sidewalk.”
KYLE: “’What if’, is the single most over-used and under-appreciated phrase in world; doesn’t matter if your saying ‘what if’ in English or ‘et si’ in French it’s a phrase of profound depth that none of us can escape. Every moment in our life, every event, is processed through the filter of ‘what if’. What if we find a way to be together instead of moving on; what if the last time we hold each other isn’t really the last time, what if I can accept your flaws, what if I can’t?
“The thing about love, at least as far as I’ve been able to discern, and I am by no means any kind of expert, is that when you’re in love, I mean really in love, there’s no place to hide, no reason to hide, and most important, no desire to hide. Does that mean Nadia only thought she loved me; maybe she did, in the vacuum space of just her and I, but in the reality of her world I think the best I can say, the best I can hope for, is that she’s trying; sometimes though, the barriers are just too high to overcome.
Pages are meant for turning, moments meant for passing, yet they linger like shadows brought to life through a series of lampposts; silent and distance, projections of fog covered nights in black and white providing no comfort even though you welcome their presence. I can’t be with Nadia right now, even though I wish it with all my heart. Does it mean the last twenty years is a lie; a lie I allow myself to believe; one that prevents me from moving on. If she really truly doesn’t love me anymore, or for some reason has decided she can’t because of all the crap she’s dealing with, I deserve to know that while we were together, she did; or at least tried to, until she didn’t, until she couldn’t pretend anymore that a process can exist where we’ll be together in the end.”
