Love Letters to Europe: Paris

Paris,

You lived up to every single expectation I had of you.

I fell for you, like so many others before me. I dream of going back to you and living with you for years. We would have a fabulous life consumed with markets, gardens, the language of love, and croissants. Lots and lots of croissants.

I had been dreaming of visiting you since I was 10 years old. From the very moment that I arrived in your city, I thought to myself who utterly chic everything and everyone was. That woman on the subway, who at 11 pm at night was still wearing a gorgeously put together outfit, sleek hair, and spoke amazing French accent. While I on the other hand, wore a slob-tastic white v-neck which was inevitably stained.

I met Zachary and Emily, who at the time I didn’t know, but would change my life once we got back to Florence together. Emily’s sassiness, her utter lack of respect for anyone until proven otherwise, combined with her intense sensitivity brought on by books and art made us fast friends. Zachary was a different story. Luckily, It only took 9 bottles of wine on Easter to change that.

Garrett, Jennifer, Javon, Kaylee – those amazing people – who I ended up falling in love with too. Our ridiculous bike tour, the boat ride on the Seine afterwards, calling it a night because we could barely stay awake. Drinking wine in the park, taking the subway to the bars, not being able to fit us all in the crowded bars, and finally finding a place after what felt like forever. Ordering every single colored drink on the menu. The journey was always so much fun with ya’ll and I never want to forget it.

I felt so lucky to have finally met you Paris. I was finally getting to experience everything you had promised me: breath-taking art at the Louvre, the magnitude of the Eiffel Tower, and the interesting texture of escargo. I wanted to learn French so I could get a job as a copywriter just to be nearer to you. I wanted to marry a French man. Any French man.

I had just ended my relationship with Tyler when we met. I was worried about being in arguably the most romantic city in the world and feeling utterly alone and hopeless. Instead you showed me things that I would eventually focus on in single life – friends, exploring, travel, art, and thrill of meeting new people. I learned how much more open I could be to people. I enjoyed just talking with people and getting to know them because I knew that I no longer had someone anymore who would always be available to listen.

You get a bad reputation for being stuck up. Which, you are. But you are also filled with lovely people who don’t detest tourists. Stefan Francottee – if you ever read this – you are the kindest, sweetest, and cutest stranger I ever had the pleasure of getting directions from. You were also the first person I attempted to flirt with in five years and I apologize that it took me a while to pick up on the clues you gave me – sorry. Emmy, who let me stay in her dorm for the night and made me pasta, bought me breakfast, and made an entire list of things I needed to do in Paris – I’m eternally grateful to you.

Paris, you and I will be reunited again. I’ll be older. I’ll have the money to treat you right. I also want to bring someone with me, someone who will appreciate your beauty as much as I do. When I watched Midnight in Paris my intense desire to see you again interrupted my light-hearted laughter at Owen Wilson. I cannot wait to walk your streets again and stare out at the glittering city reflected on the Seine and thank God that I’ve finally made it back to you again.