i was supposed to fly to amsterdam this weekend, but plans shifted and now i'm going to Paris... for the sixth time in less than 4 years...?! i'm either completely out of my mind, or some strange fate is responsible for continually drawing me back.
when i flew away from paris last august, i swore i wouldn't return for a VERY long time. i was upset with the city for several reasons---none of which were the fault of paris itself, but of my own high expectations. i was frustrated with a couple of situations there, which i let blind me from all the magical things i had also just experienced.
because paris is... really trying. of course the city is always beautiful and lively and enchanting, but it's also always really difficult for me in some way. every single time.
i've gotten sick in paris, i've gotten in trouble in paris (multiple times and multiple ways), i've gotten lost in paris (and consequently have walked the ENTIRETY of paris... but could probably never get lost again), i've lost things in paris, annnd i've cried in paris... almost every time.
but... it's PARIS, yanno? it's just as romantic and dramatic and heartbreakingly intense as every cliche novel and film has led you to believe! and i feel like paris just wouldn't be paris without those textbook lows to compliment the spectacular, unparalleled highs!
because although i've felt pain in paris, some of the most magical moments of my whole life happened there. i've skipped down the cobblestone streets, arm-in-arm with best friends, wine-drunk at 3am. i danced to the music of a merry-go-round with a sweet boy as the eiffel tower sparkled above us and lit up the sky. i've partied with parisians in underground pubs and graffiti skateparks and on the metro with wine bottles and stereos. i french-kissed a french man who cooked me a three-course meal for dinner and later held my hand along the seine. i've run through the empty louvre at 9am to stand face to face with the mona lisa before mobs of tourists barged in on us. i've sat amongst the broken bindings in shakespeare and co, where an infinity of writers have lived and worked and spoken. and i've never felt quite so inspired.
it's one of the most remarkable cities in the world.
paris is my on-and-off-again lover---you know, the kind you intermittently either adore or despise. because it's the kind of lover that, when you go to greet it, you're never sure what's going to happen, but you know damn well it's going to make you FEEL. the kind of passion that will either make you cry or skip through the streets drunk on euphoria---never anything in between.
it's a risk, but it's always well worth it. paris is the lover you can never say no to.
so, this is me saying yes to paris... for the sixth damn time.
because life is strange.
and so, so very lovely.