Sorry this took so long. I've been on vacation since I last posted. Hope everyone else is having a great summer!
We checked into a hotel after we left last night. I didn't know where to go first. I've never stayed in a hotel here before, because why would I need to in my own city? But, clueless as I was, I had this feeling of complete calm as we wandered, almost aimlessly, through the streets. I felt the cool evening breeze on my face and I could hold my girlfriend's hand and not give a damn about what anyone thought, because I wasn't hiding from anyone any more.
The first couple of hotels that we tried were fully booked, but fortunately, we found a modest place in the east of the city with with a spare room. We were greeted at the reception by a tiny old woman with long grey hair tied into a neat braid and a thick woolen jumper, despite the mild weather outside. She led us up a narrow staircase to the top of the building and to a quiet room at the end of the corridor. It was only ten o'clock, but after a long day, we dumped our bags at the side of the room and fell asleep atop the sheets.
I am woken up by a flash of white light that seeps through my eyelids, and the squeaking sound of curtains sliding open on the rail.
'Cosima!', I moan groggily, covering my eyes with my hand.
She turns round quickly. 'Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you'.
She's only a shadow against the bright morning that shines through the large square window, but I can see that she's changed out of yesterday's clothes and into an olive green t-shirt and denim shorts.
'What are you looking at?' I ask as she continues to stare out of the window.
'We have a pretty great view from up here. I didn't get to see it last night, 'cause we went to bed straight away'.
'We're so boring', I chuckle.
'No way, we deserved to sleep, just so last night would end quicker' she says. 'I had the worst time ever, I can't even imagine what it must have been like for you'.
I sit up on the bed. 'I think I used up all of my anger last night, because I don't feel that way today'.
'If it makes you feel better, you sounded really sexy yelling in French'.
'So that's the key to me winning any argument that we have?'
'Yep. I'm pretty sure I would stop being angry'. She smiles, thinking about it.
I shift my position on the bed, crossing my legs and leaning back against the headboard. The room is simple, a little old fashioned maybe, with light patterned wallpaper that's peeling off in some places where it reaches the skirting board and a wooden floor that creaks when you step through the door. The bed is hard and uncomfortable, but I would rather sleep anywhere than my parents' house.
Cosima looks over to me. 'I'm so proud of you. I hope you know, but just in case you don't, I'll say it. You were so stressed out about this trip, and now I understand why, but you came here anyway. You were considering not telling your parents about me, and then you did, and I don't really know what happened then but you had the courage to get up and leave, no matter what you'd be leaving behind'.
'I could have handled it better', I admit, running a hand through my hair.
She shrugs. 'Well, I don't speak French so I don't know, but from where I was standing, you were fighting for yourself and for our relationship and you weren't gonna back down. And I'm just happy you chose me'.
'I would always choose you', I reassure her.
She leaves the window and its apparently beautiful view behind and joins me on the bed, sitting oppsosite and crossing her legs. We're like two kids sharing secrets at a sleepover.
'So, anyway', she begins, 'I know this trip has been a disaster so far. But I wanna make it better. And there's something I've been planning that will hopefully cheer you up'.
I raise an eyebrow, inquisitive. What has she been hiding from me? She's usually terrible at keeping secrets.
'I have something for you'. She takes a white paper envelope out of her back pocket and hands it to me, trying to hold back a grin as though she might give away the surprise.
I keep my eyes fixed on hers as I slide my finger beneath the seal of the envelope and rip it open. Only then do I allow myself to look down. I run my fingers along the hard edge of what appears to be a piece of card. No, two pieces of card. I take one of them out, and flip it over in my hand.
It's a plane ticket. Paris to Venice. Leaving the day after tomorrow.
'Oh, Cosima!' I gasp.
'Happy anniversary', she smiles shyly.
Later that morning, I take Cosima to the Eiffel Tower. It's number one on her Paris bucket list, she told me. She's been acting like an excited child since we got here, always squeezing my hand and smiling widely. She's so happy to be here. I, on the other hand, am a little bored, but I try not to show it, for her sake. Not that this place isn't amazing, but I've been here so many times, it doesn't feel new or exciting to me anymore. Besides, it's getting busier by the second, as hoardes of people flood out of the elevators. Any minute now, I'll feel like I'm drowning in a crowd of tourists.
Cosima is leaning against the fence, watching the view like a movie, when my phone starts to vibrate. I turn up the volume when I hit answer, knowing I'll struggle to hear anything, then press the phone to my ear.
'Hello?'
'Bonjour, darling!'
'Hey, Felix'.
'How's Paris treating you?'
'We're at the Eiffel Tower right now'.
'Sounds glamorous', he says enviously.
'Not so much. It's just really busy'.
'Are your parents there with you?'
'No. Actually, we're not staying with them. We had a situation last night'.
'What happened?' he asks, confused.
'I told them about Cosima. That she's my girlfriend'.
'Oh, shit!' he exclaims. 'Well, I'm assuming the worst'.
I shake my head. 'It did not go well'.
'How badly are we talking here?'
'We had a huge argument and they told me if I was serious about her, I should leave. So I did. But not before I told them exactly what I thought of them'.
'Holy shite!' he exclaims, laughing out of surprise rather than humour. 'I'm sorry, Del'.
'I'm not', I reply bluntly.
'So, that's it then? You're, like, never gonna talk to them again? Not ever?' His voice is full of concern.
'It don't know. It doesn't seem like it. But if they can't accept me, then that's their problem. I'm done'.
He sighs, but when he speaks, his tone is encouraging. 'You know you don't need them, right? Your parents? They can only be in your life if you let them be, if you choose them. My real parents, they didn't choose me. I don't even know who they are, but it doesn't matter. What's biology got to do with it? I've got Sarah and Mrs S, they're my mum and my sister, and they're as real as any biological family I could have. And now I have Cosima, and Alison, and I had Beth. They're my sisters too. I guess what I'm trying to say is, you can choose your own family. We're your family, Del'.
He's right, of course. It's why I choose to spend every holiday and every birthday in the UK. Every time I should consider visiting my real family, I don't even think about it because I'm too busy celebrating with my friends in London. Maybe they're my real family, one that I've found for myself instead of being born into.
I smile to myself. 'You know, Felix, I wish someone had been around to tell me that when I was younger'.
'Better late than never, right?'
'I'm just grateful I have someone here to tell me now. So thank you. It means a lot to me'.
'Don't mention it', he brushes it off. We're both on the dangerous edge of tears, so Felix steers us away quickly, changing the subject. 'So, what are you up to today?'
'We're visiting all the tourist spots'.
'Cosima's idea?'
'Of course. She loves it'.
'Aw. And when are you coming back?'
'Well, our trip has been extended a little', I say vaguely.
'Oh yeah?'
'We're going to Venice!'
I can hear him laughing. 'I know. We all do'.
'Of course you did', I realise suddenly.
'I have to say though, I am extremely jealous, and I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time'.
'Yes, I think we will'.
'And enjoy the sun in Italy. Weather's shite back here'.
'That doesn't surprise me'.
'Yeah, well I'm trying to convince Colin to take me to Ibiza, but he's not budging. Guess you got lucky with Cosima'.
She turns to me at that moment, smiling brightly, as if she'd heard what Felix said.
'Guess I did', I reply, smiling back, though she's already turned away.
'Anyway I'll let you go, I'm sure you're far too busy to talk to me'.
'I'm never too busy for you'.
'Well, obviously. You couldn't live without me'.
I roll my eyes.
'Cosima, come say goodbye to Felix!' I call to her.
She hurries over and leans towards the phone. 'See you soon, dude!'
'Au revoir, lovebirds!' he says before hanging up.
I put a hand on my hip. 'He knows about Venice. So does everyone else, don't they?'
'You know I wouldn't have been able to keep it a secret. I had to tell someone. But then I ended up telling everyone', Cosima admits with a grin.
'I'm just amazed you pulled it off. Not just because of you, but the others as well', I laugh, shaking my head.
'I know! Colin is the worst, I thought he was gonna let it slip so many times over the past couple of weeks'.
'That's why he was acting so strange whenever I was around!' I laugh, remembering Colin's quiet awkwardness when I spoke to him, only replying in one word answers.
'He probably just didn't want a repeat of last time, do you remember?'
'When he accidentally told Kira about her surprise birthday party? How could I forget! I honestly thought Sarah was going to kill him'.
'Yeah, she was so mad!' Cosima laughs.
'Well, I don't think I would have acted like that if someone spoiled the surprise for me. But I'm glad I didn't find out. I didn't suspect a thing', I tell her truthfully.
'I'm glad'.
She turns her head, looking out over the city, her eyes squinting in the sun. But the place is filling up now, people swarming around us like flies around honey.
'Want to get out of here?' I ask.
She nods.
Venice flashes by in a blur of heat and colour, all clear skies, blue waters and the sun like fire on my back.
And people. Lots of people, everywhere, in every narrow street, of every different nationality. Each voice speaks a different language. It seems strange to me, a city full of foreigners, temporary visitors like myself. But it shouldn't feel strange; I've lived in Paris and London, two of the most famous cities in the world, where I am always surrounded by people from every corner of the world. Maybe I have grown so used to being a native in a tourist city that now I am a tourist myself, it feels unusual.
We take a gondola ride around the backstreets of the city, if you can call them backstreets. They're more like little rivers, but tiny motorboats are parked outside front doors like cars park in the street outside a house. It's surreal, imagining living here.
We wander around designer clothes stores, Moschino and Versace, nearly fainting at the numbers on the price tags. Cosima is too afraid to pick anything up, to touch anything, because she thinks she might break something if she does.
We climb the bell tower in the Piazza San Marco, taking an elevator to the top and walking out into the light, surrounded by the beauty of the city on all sides. We lean out of windows with no glass to a view of orange rooftops and beige buildings down below, stretching all the way to the water beyond. Looking out over the main part of the city, we can't see the tiny canals that run through the streets like ordinary roads. The breeze touches my hair and the brightness of the sun makes it impossible to see without sunglasses. But we stay up there for almost an hour, just looking, and admiring.
On our last night in the city, we eat at a beautiful restaurant in a busy square near the Grand Canal. It's dark now, though not yet the pitch black of night. The yellows and pinks of sunset still cling to the horizon, fading into the deep, velvety blue sky above. Quaint restaurants line every side of the square, their cosy golden lights shining out into the seating areas, where everyone sits at outside tables, because it's still warm enough. The sound of chatter fills the air, and the vanilla scent of the candle burning in the middle of the table.
'I kind of wish we didn't have to go home tomorrow', Cosima sighs.
'I know. Back to the cold weather', I agree.
'And back to normal life. Like, we can't drink all day if we want to, we can't keep eating whatever we want, we have to go back to work'.
I shake my head. 'It's not so bad'.
'Maybe not. I guess you can't hate going back, because it only means you had a good time on vacation'.
'And we've had an amazing time', I smile gratefully. I place my hand on top of hers on the table. We interlock our fingers.
I look at her quizzically, suspiciously. 'This trip', I gesture to the square around us, 'this was because I mentioned it a little while ago, isn't it? Wanting to visit Italy? And to go on vacation with you?'
She nods, grinning, as though I've just figured out her puzzle. 'We were watching TV and there was a commercial about some hotel chain, and it showed people taking a ride in a gondola. You said you would love to go to Venice some day, and I asked you why and you said that a city with canals instead of roads is like something from a book of fairytales. And that's when I had the idea to bring you here'.
She recounts every detail like it just happened a few minutes ago, though it's probably been over a month since that day. I remember now. It was raining that evening, heavy drops pelting against the window, drowning out the music we were playing. I was complaining about the weather. I said we needed some sun, and mentioned that we should go on vacation this year. It was just a passing comment, and she shrugged like she wasn't even listening.
'I can't believe you remember that'.
'Of course I remember. You don't often say you want things, but when you do, I remember. Because I want you to have it. I want to give you whatever you want. Unless you want to go to the moon, because that's up to NASA, not me. Or a million dollar house in Beverly Hills, because that's a little out of my price range'.
I rub my thumb in circles over her knuckles, wanting to kiss her soft lips, but she's too far away across the table. 'You're amazing. And I don't need a million dollar house, I'm perfectly happy in our little apartment, and I've never thought about going to space'.
I take a sip of champagne. 'And for the record, you don't have to get me things either. You make me sound like I am high maintenance!' I joke.
'What? I like to spoil you, is that such a crime?'
'Yes, because I have to think of new ideas that are better than yours', I tease. 'How can I top this?'
'You can't', she replies smugly, shaking her head.
'I bet I can', I challenge her. 'One day, I will'.
