…gone and fallen in love with something new.

the culprit this time: Paris.
nothing could have prepared me for how fast i fell, how deeply enamored i instantly became with every sidewalk crack and cobbled stone that beckoned me, pulling my very center down into its pulsing heart and reminding me with each step that i know only one small corner of this huge world. i love my blessed life but i’ve yet so much to learn about the taste of foreign air…

they say it’s the City of Light, the city of romance, a place to fall in love, and so i involuntarily fell — swept out of myself and into the lure of an existence i was allowed to glimpse for just one brief week, i fell easily and swiftly into the dream of What Shawna Would Be Like In Paris. hardly a vacation, it was more like a window into who i might be if i were a different version of myself (with a more cultivated knowledge of French next time, i should hope), finding my place in a tiny little flat and learning the Metro as though i’d be riding it for years to come. they said we had the nicest weather they’d had in a long time, blue skies and barely a touch of rain except on our very last night, which seemed a suitable parting gift from some kinder gods who empathized with our all-too-soon departure from this city of magic. it wasn’t just the way the city seamlessly bled modernity and history into a tantalizing snare of wonder, or the instant obsession with strawberry crepes and French wine and streets thronged and alive with the promises of a city that does not disappoint…nor was it just the rush of new friends or the face-to-face reality of legendary places (Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysees) that dotted my list of “one days” and “i simply musts.” it was the full effect, the overall effervescent novelty of each new moment pouring into the next, where everything combined to make the City of Light take on a life of its own for my widened eyes.

of course i decided i’d move there, as one naturally would when swept along by a current of infatuation so strong she can barely extend a leg to kick a solid patch.

here i go again, another wanderlust love, driving me back to New York a little more restless and a little less centered; a little more fractious but a little less anxious about my ability to call the world my home.

they say, “well, we’ll always have Paris.”

i finally understand.

Shawna & Lissa, Arc de Triomphe