The most important questions.

One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.

When I first got here, I made it my mission to read the French children's classic, "Le Petit Prince." Which actually turned out to be a very difficult "children's book." There are some very beautiful themes in that book. One of them illistrates the difference in the way we view life as a child, and then how we view it as an adult. There was one part especially that stuck in my head:

"When you tell [grown-ups] that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you, "What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?" Instead, they demand: "How old is he? How many brothers does he have? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?" Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him."


It always struck me as funny, the question "what does his voice sound like?" What a strange thing to use to describe someone. I stopped reading and thought about it for a little while. And I realized I couldn't really explain any of the voices in my life, honestly. But I still thought it was a beautiful idea.


Then, months later, I was having a drink with Sylvie and her friend, Thierry. We were discussing the idea of me dating Richard.  I met Richard in January, when Sylvie brought me to his birthday party on the beach. I learned later that she was playing matchmaker by doing that, but at the time I didn't care. I had no desire to seriously date anyone here. After that, Richard and I ended up spending a lot of time together going out with the group and just having fun adventures. Until a month and a half later, when he asked me to dinner.


I was at Sylvie's house the night of the "big date." I was dragging my heels and bemoaning her for not telling Richard ahead of time that I wasn't interested. She just shrugged and said "I'm staying out of that...that's your discussion!!"

So...off I went. And that's when things changed.

Maybe it was the full moon, or the beautiful restaurant with a glowing pool surrounded by sweet smelling flowers and palm trees. Maybe it was the incredible scallops, the chocolate fondue, and the perfect wine, expertly ordered. Maybe it was the amazing conversation about life and love and relationships that lasted for three hours...or when he took me down to the ocean after dessert, pressed me against some rocks, and kissed me so gently it made my head spin. Wait yeah, it was probably that.

So anyway, it was just a few days after that, that I met with Sylvie and Thierry to discuss. I was explaining to them that it was not going to become something serious...a discussion I had already had with Richard. Thierry was appalled to learn how bluntly I told Richard the next day that I could not give him what he wanted...that I was leaving and I did not intend to involve myself in a relationship on some random island. He understood and said that he wouldn't expect anything from me.

That's when Thierry did something weird. He said; "So, what does his voice sound like?" I stopped for a second, remembering the oddity of that question in Le Petit Prince, and asked Theirry why he said that...maybe it was a French thing? I told them about the passage in the story. They both just smirked and waited for my answer. So I thought about Richard's voice...and I blushed, smiling. Sylvie and Theirry burst into peels of laughter. I rolled my eyes at them, because at this time, I was still adamant that it would never be anything serious, but I guess they knew something I didn't.

I held on to that conviction all the way until I got back from Africa. Then one Saturday, we met my California girls on the beach. It was like watching some kind of chick flick movie where the kids bring the adults together, because seriously watching how he was with them just absolutely melted my heart and all my defenses. We played for hours...with the two littlest ones on his back, we swam to this tiny patch of sand in the middle of the lagoon where we had lava-sand wars, until we were all covered in splatters of black. Then they tackled him and he let them bury him for a very very long time after :-) We laughed the entire time, and at the end the girls were secretly referring to him as "Lifeguard Ken."

After that I decided to let him in a little bit ;-)

Then, (stupidly?) I fell in love.

So what does his voice sound like? I probably couldn't describe to you in words (without sounding cheesy) the sound of Richard's voice. But I can tell you that when I imagine it, it sends chills from the side of my neck down my spine, as if someone was tickling me with breath. And it's because of that, and a million other reasons both big and small, that I know things are very different this time.