I completely at this city's will. Everything from the sights to the language consume my entire being and cram up my brain until there is no room for anything other than "je voudrais..." and "tout va bien". I'm in love with the sounds of the French language...on the bus I feel like the man on the phone next to me is reciting a romantic, emotion filled love poem while he actually is discussing God knows what with his boss. The waiter asks if I want the bill, and I blush at how sensual it sounds. I can't help but have a romantic relationship with everyone I come in contact with, with a "bonjour, comment vas-tu?" And it's not just the language. This whole city has my head in a spin, and just like falling in love with a human being, I find myself at a loss for thoughts of my own. When the Notre Dame is staring you in the face on a daily basis, you tend to feel small in comparison. Paris, this relationship is amazing and everyday is a whirlwind, but I'm starting to lose myself in you. Though your romance has won me over, I can't compete with your lights glistening off the Seine, or your sparkling Eiffel Tower every hour on the hour, your museums which are themselves as historical as the works they hold, your beautiful natives, your rich food, or your heartbreakingly stunning streets. I'm torn, my dear city of lights. I would love nothing more than to stay with you forever, but I fear giving up myself entirely.
Maybe the best places are those we can both love AND hate, but fit into comfortably. This passionate love affair I have here cannot last...and I'll return home filled with the thrill of living in the midst of unimaginable beauty, but ready to settle back into life.
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