We set off very late from the Par’chemin, both a mixed bag of emotions of needing to keep walking, the other, to stay. My gut kept telling me to keep walking though. That it was important we move on. This morning was one of the first of many times we would play the game of whoops, the Magician forgot his stick. It eventually got to the stage where I said if he forgot it one more time, the stick would officially become mine. Needless to say he actually now has both our sticks in his apartment.
We walked together all day till we reached Miradoux, which was over 19K away. Thinking the whole way that we thought we’d catch the French girl we’d met the day before. But we didn’t see her again. This gave me a mixed bag of emotions. As on the one hand, the day before I’d clearly seen that she’d been attracted to the Magician. She fit a type for the Magician that I would never be. I’m curvy and blonde (and atypically beautiful). And she was very slim, not curvy and dark haired (and very typically beautiful). As the Magician always wants people to feel included, he’d spent most of the day trying to get us to talk to each other. As I wanted to keep practicing my French. And she was trying to improve her English. In the Magician’s presence though she would only speak French and only initiated a conversation with me directly when he wasn’t there. This unfortunately took me back to painful memories of my ex. When we first met, I’d recently split up with my first love, and he, with his second love. Needless to say she was actively continuing to pursue him. Telling him she was going to get him back.
Walking through the golden farmed fields all day we talked about the basics you would on a first date. What music do you like? What movies? And every time starting to realise the similarities which ran deeply together. Although there was a 5 year difference between us, our music tastes were both eclectic and the same. And we both enjoyed the guilty pleasure of hibernating in front of TV series eating tasty take away. Playing 20 questions late in the afternoon clearly showing we both equally had an exceptionally dirty sense of humor.
The Magician has had the complete opposite love life to me (with one main long term relationship a number of years before). Whereas I’ve been in 2 very long term relationships. As a result of my experiences I’d spent a number of years playing the territory game with other women. In my experience I’ve seen women see a man who is in a long term relationship as a demonstration that they can be committed (therefore more desirable), or a challenge (because in theory they’re unattainable). This behaviour from the French girl sparked alive painful memories. Adding this to what felt like me hanging onto the Magician for dear life, trying to understand if he really wanted to be with me or not? As most conversation centred around a desire to be free both literally and physically. And the knowledge that when we first met, he’d told me he had very strong feelings for another woman (and several other women who’d been in his life at that point).
The next day we walked through green fields and the Magician’s physical injuries started to become more serious, as did my emotional ones. Drawing to the end of our walk up the hill (past grassy fields) into Lectourne, the Magician and I were lost in thoughts of the pain. Physical for him, and emotional for me. I played Celtic music to try and calm our minds and distract us till we got to the Gite there. At this point, we’d had to acknowledge that we would likely have to take a rest day (possibly more). And I felt a drum beat of ‘Run run run run, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man’ begin in my head.