beautiful night, hot enough to leave the window open so that we could hear the traffic and people on the

streets below us. We were drinking the last of our second bottle of wine together and then I could see by

the look on Remi’s face as he lit up a cigarette that something was the matter.

“What is it?” I asked. He exhaled some smoke before he could say anything.

“Michael I really like you.”

“Yeah, I like you too,” I said. “

“I like you, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he said. He inhaled from his cigarette. I was

puzzled.

“What do you mean, wrong idea?” He looked at me with those sweet eyes.

“I mean I really like you being my friend and I like having sex with you…but that’s it.” He sighed and

looked at me seriously. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m just not in love with you. I just don’t feel it.”

“I’m not in love with you either,” I said and when I’d spoken the words out loud I knew I meant it. “Can

I have one of your cigarettes?” I asked. He gave me a cigarette and lit it for me. I never smoked but now I

needed something to get rid of the uneasy feeling in my stomach.

“Then why did you say that you loved me when I woke you up last morning?” Remi asked.

“Did I say that?” I replied puzzled. Sometimes when I woke up here it was still hard for me to

remember where I was. There were some many places where I had spent the night frequently that I lost

track. I was confused between my parents place, my old apartment in New York, my new apartment back

home, my Parisian apartment, Remi’s place… Sometimes when Remi was lying next to me I dreamt I was

back in New York and it was David holding me instead of him. When Remi would wake me up with a

kiss I would dream it was David.

I poured myself another glass of red wine. Our second bottle of the evening was almost empty.

“So who were you saying I love you to then?” Remi asked. “It’s complicated,” I said and swallowed

some more wine.

“You can tell me,” Remi said. I had clearly awoken his curiosity. “There’s only one guy for me,” I said.

“So why aren’t you with him?” Remi asked. “It’s impossible,” I replied. Remi giggled, “Nothing is

impossible, unless he’s straight… Is he straight?” I shook my head.

“Come on, you can tell me about him,” Remi said, but I couldn’t say anything at that moment.

At least Remi was relieved that I wasn’t in love with him either. It was weird that both of us didn’t feel

that way about each other because we seemed like a perfect match. He was smart and talkative and not

such a nerd as David. David was a really sweet guy but Remi had an edge and a very cynic sense of

humor that I also liked. And of course he was really handsome. When we walked outside together I could

see girls and sometimes guys checking him out. Remi loved the attention.

Still, when I thought of David I would be melancholic for hours. I hoped he was happy working for dad.

I hoped he was happy together with Marc, but sometimes I hoped he missed me too.

21. “Bonne fête a toi” (Happy birthday to you)

Then it was my birthday again, another year gone by. I would go out with Remi and a couple of his

friends, who were now my friends too. I’d already received some packages from the States for my

birthday but had decided to leave them unopened until today. I could read Glenn’s scribbled handwriting

on one of them and I was pleased that he’d remembered. I really missed Glenn.

I made myself an espresso with the fancy machine that I’d bought second hand in some dump shop near

by and sat down. The first package I opened was from Christine and contained, like always, some

clothing. She loved buying me shirts, even though I now lived in the fashion capital of the world. It was a

nice shirt though and I decided I would wear it in the evening when we went out.

My dad and Juliette had sent me a card saying that they’d put 500 Euro’s on my account so that I could

treat myself to something nice. The twins had bought me a CD from a band I’d never heard of before, but

which turned out to be pretty cool. My little brothers were growing up fast and they’d both acquired a

taste for nice indie bands.

Glenn had sent me some raunchy porn DVD’s with guys dressed as US Marshalls. He’d written me a

card too, which read: “Just so you don’t forget the boys back home…Hope you’re enjoying yourself

over there. Make sure to come back to the US in a couple of months. I’m bored to death without you.” I

smiled. It was nice to know that Glenn missed me too. I would have to call him again to urge him to come

over and stay with me for a vacation.

I’d kept David’s package for last. My stomach felt clenched when I looked at it. I didn’t really want to

open it but at the same time I felt compelled to do so. When I opened the package I saw that there was a

birthday card inside that I kept for last.

There was also an bunch of pictured that I picked up and flipped through. He’d send me the pictures that

we’d taken in our parent’s backyard. Some of them had David and me on them, while we lay in the grass

in each others’ arms. Two of the pictures had actually been taken when we were sleeping. Christine must

have made those secretly with David’s camera. I’m holding David in my arms on those pictures and our

legs are tangled. The set also contained the picture of David standing next to our pool. I felt sad looking at

it. Seeing him on that picture made me realize that nothing had changed; I loved him just the same. I

framed that picture later and put it next to my bed.

I opened David’s birthday card. It read: “I hope you’re having a great day Michael. I really miss you

back home. I think about you all the time. Love David.”

I felt like crying. Here I was, thousands of miles away from my brother and still I felt bad. I still wanted

him more than I could ever want Remi, although Remi was perfect for me in every way.

I picked up my mobile phone and called David’s number. It was the first time I’d ever called him from

France on my initiative. All of a sudden I was desperate to hear his voice and the thought of him not

picking up the phone was agonizing.

The phone rang a couple of times, which seemed to take forever, and then he finally picked up.

“Hey it’s me,” I said, “Can you talk?” I hadn’t even thought of the time differences with the US. He

was silent for a moment and then said “Yeah of course. I’m so glad you called.” Just hearing his slightly

husky voice made my heart twitch.

“I just opened your package,” I said, “Thanks for the pictures.”

“You liked them?”

“Yeah, they’re great. It was really thoughtful of you.”

“I miss you,” he said.

“Yeah I read that on our card,” I replied, “I miss you too.”

I could hear his tearing breath through the phone.

“I miss you quite a lot actually,” I said hoarsely.

“I miss you a lot too, I think about you all the time,”

“Me too,” I said, “I try not too but I can’t stop myself. I think about you all the time, even when I

shouldn’t.”

I could hear him catch his breath on the other side of the line.

“Sometimes I wake up here thinking I’m back in my old apartment in New York, with you being there...

But then when I really wake up it’s never you of course and then I feel so empty inside. I’m sorry I haven’t

called you more often, you mean more to me than you might think.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, “I’m just glad I’m hearing your voice now. Sometimes I can’t sleep

because I miss you so much.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” I said, “I’ll call you again soon.”

“Michael,” he said, “Happy birthday.”