(all images below are clickable)
It's about 10am and I wake up feeling in a very loving mood. I recall the conversation I had with Catriona earlier in the morning when she got home from the couchsurfing sub crawl in Glasgow 1. I find myself thinking that it would be nice to make her a cup of tea or some breakfast and generally look after her when she eventually arises from here inevitable hang over. The thing is that it is impossible to do this as she is in a different country to me. The feeling of love doesn't change, I still feel my heart beating faster as I think of her. I go back to bed so that I may wake up again with that lovely warm feeling.
I wake up again and again I feel enamoured by thoughts of her. It's Sunday and the day is starting off well. I really have nothing to do so I decide to play some poker online and kill time before Catriona gets up. Things go well for a while. I'm not becoming a millionaire but I'm winning and having fun.
Time drags on. The poker games become same ole' same ole', monotonous and repetitive. I drift into a continuous loosing streak. Frankly all I can think of is wanting to spend time with Catriona and I'm becoming depressed at not being able to do it. Finally the text comes through that she is awake and I grab my headset to have a chat.
I love her. We hang up and after an hours chat I feel uplifted, I feel like the wait is possible, I feel like I can get through another week in Paris but after 10 minutes I am getting restless. The high from talking to Catriona is beginning to wear off and I start to feel lonely again. I decide to go out and take some pictures, clear my thoughts of sadness and hopefully find something beautiful for Catriona to come home to.
3pm and I'm out the door. After a short, bleak walk through Neuilly I jump on the metro and head to nowhere in particular. It is packed in the carriage and I want to get off as soon as possible. I can't decide between Butte Charmont or the Louvre. I choose the Louvre as the better option because there are more street photo opportunities and there is a nicer backdrop.
I get out of the metro and find it has begun to rain much more determinedly that earlier. I walk through the grounds. Nothing seems at all inspiring and the rain is coming down harder. I decide to take refuge in an adjoining square to the main entrance and wait out the downpour.
Whilst I wait there I realise that I am in a very downward spiral in my mood. A combination of the melon colic songs on my MP3, the grey, wet and cold weather and my loneliness about Catriona is beginning to affect me a lot. I look into the square and see everything in a different way than usual. I get my camera out and start clicking at things that represent me inside. The rain is thundering down. Pounding the ground relentlessly, causing rapid rivers on the ground. It would be suicide to go out there with my camera in my hands so I wait patiently. A click here, a click there, it's all building up around me and filtering through my lens into my camera.
Eventually the rain stops enough for me to leave my refuge and walk some more. I stand at the side of the road waiting to cross onto the Pont des Arts when someone in their car, obviously having as equally a depressing day as me decides the only way to relieve the monotony of life and the sadness inside is to create the worlds largest street tsunami and cover me in water. The car speeds towards me, swerves into the huge puddle on the side of the road and launches the water in arc in my direction. It soars upwards and forwards, rushing in at me with all the force of... a small child jumping into a bath. The water drops with the most energy fall helplessly at my feet like defeated enemies begging for mercy. I smile and give the universally recognised sign of acknowledgement shown to all those that reveal themselves to be the idiots that they are then cross the road onto the bridge.
About 20 mins later I find myself wishing that I hadn't taken this particular metro. Everybody on the bridge had been involved in loving embraces and had found the rain only made things more beautiful. I couldn't bear it any longer and decided to go home. Of course the metro was packed with lovers too. I can't escape from it, the most unusual, intimate moments of attention to each other being laid out for all in the carriage and I can't help thinking I wish I could be doing the same to Catriona.
I get home and treat myself to a baguette, the ice-cream I intended buying was way overpriced so bread and butter will have to do. I wait to speak to Catriona, passing the time with a film.
The phone rings and instantly I am overjoyed. My dark veil is lifted to reveal a moonlit ,bright evening full of joy and conversation. The chat with Catriona fills me up with comfort. I felt dead inside for a while, but in a moment, that moment, it was all gone. I've come back to life because of her.
To quote a the queens of the stone age " I may not be worth a dollar, but I feel like a millionaire "
1 A sub crawl is like a pub crawl. You must visit a pub at every stop on the underground system until you have completed the tour or you die, pass out or develop a fear of public transport.
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