RE: Falling in Love

Where could it be?

Marie felt as if she had already searched through 100 boxes, but it was probably more like a dozen. Just as she was considering giving up her search, she saw a box beneath two other boxes with “Paris 97/98” written on the side. Bingo!

Maria pulled out the box she was looking for, restacked the rest of the boxes close to their original order, and carefully carried the box back down the attic stairs. She carried the box into the home office, set it down on the floor, and sat down next to it.

The box had been tightly sealed with packing tape many years ago, probably when they had first moved into this house 20 years ago. Marie cut through the tape carefully with a box cutter, so as not to damage the contents. Inside the box were several envelopes of photos and their negatives, French-style school notebooks, English language teaching guides, and folded-up maps of Paris and other French cities.

Underneath everything, at the bottom of the box, she found what she was looking for: a binder of printed email exchanges between her and Mike. Their kids laugh when Marie talks about how she used to print out emails back in the day. But for Marie, these were embodiments of their virtual love letters, and she cherished them.

Their love story began back in August 1997 in Boston. They were both at a party in downtown Boston hosted by Marie’s college roommate Laura and her boyfriend Matt. Mike introduced himself as they both were reaching into the cooler to grab beers. They immediately hit it off and continued chatting for nearly two hours. They shared stories about their childhoods, realizing that they grew up about 60 miles away from each other in Massachusetts, and discovering a mutual love of the Boston Red Sox. Marie had just graduated from college while Mike was about to start the second year of his MBA program.

At around midnight, Mike looked at his watch and sighed. “Wow, it’s late. I really need to head out. I have a group project meeting in the morning for school, so I need to be functional tomorrow. Can I call you? I’d love to chat some more over dinner.”

Now Marie sighed. “I would love that. But I am flying to Paris in a few days, and I’ll be there studying and teaching for the next year.”

Mike’s face fell. “Okay, I get it. I can take a hint.” He started to turn and walk away.

Marie realized that he thought she was making up an excuse so she wouldn’t have to go out with him. “Wait! No, it’s the truth!” Marie looked around frantically to find someone to argue her case. She saw Matt come by, clearing up some empty beer bottles and plates. “Matt, come here!”

Matt walked over and shook Mike’s hand. “Good to see you, bro. I see you’ve met Laura’s friend Marie.”

Marie grabbed Matt’s arm. “Matt, what am I doing next weekend?”

Matt looked at Marie with a puzzled expression. “You’re flying to Paris for the school year. Laura is so jealous she could spit, but the truth is, she is going to miss you like crazy.”

Marie looked back at Mike. “See? It’s the truth, I’m not just trying to blow you off.”

A look of relief passed over Mike’s face, but it was quickly replaced with another look that Marie couldn’t quite read. Matt, sensing that his presence was no longer needed, edged away from the pair and resumed cleaning up.

Marie looked into the eyes of this man she had just met. She felt a real connection with Mike and she didn’t want to let him go. On impulse, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. She looked around for a piece of paper, but all she could find was a paper napkin on the table with the party snacks. She found a marker and wrote her email address on the napkin. She then handed it to Mike.

“Here is my email address. Please, let’s get to know each other while I’m away via email. Then when I come back, we’ll go on that date. What do you say? Can you wait nine months?”

Mike looked down at the napkin and then back at Marie. “Yes.”

Marie gave Mike a big hug and they parted ways.

That week was a whirlwind of activity for Marie as she packed up her life and prepared to move to Paris for the next nine months.

It wasn’t until she was on the plane bound for Paris that she had a quiet moment to think about Mike. Why did she have to meet him now, when she was about to spend a year in Paris on this fellowship that she had dreamed of and worked so hard to achieve? As the plane took off, a tear rolled down her cheek. Hopefully, he would email and they could keep in touch while she was abroad. But Marie doubted that would happen. He had probably already lost her email address.

Once she got to Paris, it took Marie a couple of days to get settled in her flat and make her way to the university where she would be studying for her year abroad. That Monday, one of the first things she did was find the computer lab so she could log into her email account. There were emails from her mother and Laura, wanting to make sure she was getting settled. She didn’t have a phone set up in the apartment yet, so Marie quickly responded that she had arrived safely in Paris, and everything was fine. And there was an email from Mike, sent on Saturday!

Dear Marie,

It may be a few days before you get this email as you find your way around in your new surroundings. I want to hear all the details about your trip, your apartment, the school, and Paris. I have never been to Paris, but maybe someday.

While I wait to hear back from you, I guess I should tell you some things about my world. I hope it’s not too boring for you. Classes are in full swing here, but since we’re in the first semester of year 2, supposedly the professors expect that we’ll be spending a good amount of our time job-hunting, so they take it easy on us. We’ll see. The night we met I told you about the summer consulting internship I had, which will hopefully lead to an offer for a job post-graduation, but no word yet. So I need to send out resumes and participate in recruiting trips with the rest of my class.

I won’t bore you with the courses I am taking this semester, but maybe I can entertain you with stories of the people here. I am surrounded by an interesting cast of characters you might say. The international finance prof is this very stern-looking guy who wears a bow tie and cracks lame jokes. We’re all taking bets on how many bow ties he has—so far, he hasn’t worn the same one twice. Love this class, he’s a great teacher.

We have several foreign exchange students studying with us this semester, and they are a lot of fun. I like to hang out with the Italians—they are fun and so, so smart. Makes me wonder why the Italian economy is such a mess. I guess they like their food and wine a little too much, but who can blame them? This one guy, Mario, can eat like nobody’s business. He goes to the all-you-can-eat dining hall when they open, eats, then stays there and studies for a few hours and eats again before they close. I tease him that he better be careful, or he’ll be taking a few extra kilos home with him when he goes back home.

For the most part, my life is spent studying. We’re all gearing up for recruiting season, which is going to be insane, so maybe it’s for the best that we’re getting to know each other virtually since I am not allowed to have a life right now.

I assume you can’t get much Red Sox news over there, but no surprise that The Curse continues. We’re still way behind the Orioles and the stupid Yankees, so the season will be over soon.

Enjoy Paris. I look forward to hearing back from you.

-Mike

p.s. I don’t know if I’m any good at this letter-writing thing…..

Marie smiled and immediately hit the Reply button.

Dear Mike,

It has been a crazy week! I landed here on Saturday, got mostly settled in my flat near the university, and today I made my way to the school. I found the computer lab, so I should be able to check my email regularly. No pressure! Write when you can. It sounds like they are keeping you super busy at school.

I would love to hear more about the “cast of characters” around you. Believe me, I have already come across some interesting people here! I was paired with a roommate from Finland named Anna. Her English is perfect (plus she speaks French fluently) and she seems nice. She got to the flat before I arrived and already filled the fridge with beer!

Our landlord stopped by to check on us over the weekend—she is a middle-aged French woman who speaks very little English. Her name is Simone, and she is a motherly sort (my mother will appreciate that!). She gave us some tips on where to shop and warned us to be careful walking around at night. Well, she told all of this to Anna who then translated for me. I am definitely feeling a bit overwhelmed with the language. I am determined to improve my French speaking and comprehension while I am here.

I’m just sorting out my classes, which start on Wednesday. I start teaching my English classes next week. I should have plenty of time to explore Paris on the weekends.

Someday our Sox will break The Curse! We just have to keep the faith.

-Marie

p.s. I loved your email! Please tell me more about your classes and the recruiting madness. One thought I had—to avoid making this one long string of replies, maybe we should start over every week. Whoever’s turn it is to write on Saturday starts a new email.

Marie and Mike exchanged emails on a nearly daily basis. Marie shared stories about her professors, her classmates, and her students, as well as her weekend excursions all over Paris and to other French cities on the train. Mike wrote about his professors and classmates, and the tedium of job hunting, and Marie was one of the first to know when Mike was offered a job post-graduation.

Mike was secretly hoping that Marie would be back in Boston for Christmas and New Year’s, but Marie’s mother had made plans to spend the holidays in France with her daughter. Marie’s father had passed away while she was in college, so Marie and her mother had started a new annual tradition of taking a trip together over the holidays. Anyway, Mike had taken on an internship at his future employer for the winter break to earn some extra money, so it wasn’t like he had time for a social life.

They continued writing to each other in the new year, with their emails becoming more and more intimate. They shared their career aspirations—Mike dreamed of starting his own business, Marie wanted to be a French teacher. As an only child, Marie wanted to have at least two children, maybe three. Mike wanted to have kids (he didn’t care how many!) to take to Fenway Park and outfit with Red Sox gear. They agreed that they never wanted to leave the Boston area.

They each wrote about the classes they were taking. Marie told Mike about the French writers she was studying and suggested a few classics for Mike to read (the English translations!). Mike told Marie about his behavioral management class and they both took personality assessments, compared their scores, and discussed their compatibility. Their email exchanges got longer and longer, but they stuck with the Saturday new email rule. Every Monday, Marie would print out the previous week’s email thread and save it in a binder.

Mike graduated at the end of May and Marie’s year abroad ended two weeks later, so she would be flying home. Right after graduation, Mike went on a week-long hiking trip with some of his b-school buddies, so he was unable to communicate with Marie for that week. For Marie, it felt like the longest week ever, although she was thankful for the distraction of wrapping up her classes and packing up to head home. She had already sent Mike her flight information and he was going to pick her up at Boston’s Logan Airport and drive her to her mother’s house.

Marie had loved her time in Paris, but she was happy to be going home. She had missed her mother, her friends, and Boston terribly, but what made her almost jittery with anticipation was seeing Mike again in person. The email bond they had formed over the last nine months felt incredibly special and she hoped they would be able to turn it into something real when they were living in the same city. Marie was pretty sure that she was in love with Mike.

She checked her email for the last time the day before she left Paris, and there was finally an email from Mike!

Dear Marie,

Back from our dudes’ hiking trip. Had a great time, but I have missed your emails! I can’t wait to see you on Saturday at Logan. I can’t believe it has been 9 months since we met at Laura and Matt’s party. This may sound corny, but I just want to stand in front of you and memorize your face. Then, if it’s okay, I’d like to kiss you.

I hope you don’t think I’m crazy, but I think I am in love with you. There, I said it. I hope with every fiber of my being that you feel the same. I’m pretty sure I just created an awkward silence on the other side of the ocean.

Have a safe trip and I’ll see you in a couple of days.

LOVE,

Mike

Marie smiled as she read that last email he sent before she and Mike were reunited in Boston. It brought her almost as much happiness as it did when she first read it 26 years ago.

Her eyes welled up as she pulled out the napkin from 1997 from the envelope on the back panel of the binder. Mike had kept the napkin from Laura and Matt’s party with her email tacked on his corkboard the entire year she was away. When she returned to Boston, she showed him the binder and he showed her the napkin. They both agreed that the napkin should be preserved along with the emails documenting the beginning of their relationship.

Marie and Mike got engaged a few months later and tied the knot in August 1999, two years after they first met. Mike finally went to Paris—on their honeymoon. They also spent some time in Milan where Marie got to meet Mike’s good friend Mario.

They had three children together, and this year marked their 25th anniversary, which was why Marie was searching for the email binder. This weekend they were throwing a party to celebrate their silver anniversary and in addition to a display of pictures from the last 25 years, Marie wanted to share their year of emails with their friends and family. While the legend of their email courtship was well-known to their closest friends, Marie had only ever shared the actual emails with her mother and her best friend (and maid of honor) Laura. Mike had joked that it was a good thing that they kept the emails PG.

Marie closed the binder, placed her hand on the cover, and closed her eyes, letting the memories wash over her. What a journey it had been. Who knew that you could fall in love via email? She wouldn’t change a thing for all the money in the world.