Monday, May 12, 2014

Oh Paris, I love you


It's been almost exactly a year since I left for London. I honestly don't remember the exact date I did. I can't believe I've lived in Europe for (basically) the last year. I did take a little 1.5 month break last summer, but still, it's kind of a big deal. There's so much that has happened that I've already forgotten. And the worst part of it all, I feel like the best is just becoming now that my time is ending. 

I guess I just wish I could stay here a little longer. There was a time where I really didn't want to come back to finish college, but I don't dread coming home right now. Instead, I just wish I could extend these amazing few weeks I'm having into the summer months. 

My friends start trickling off in a few weeks. First Mollie, my favorite person ever, Mollie. And then Rachel, my gorgeous, hilarious, British friend. And everyone else, too. Everyone's leaving. Myself included. 

And then there are no more lunches in the Luxembourg Gardens, or day trips to cute french villages, or drinking wine from the bottle before we go to our favorite bar (with our favorite bartenders). No more watching movies in one of our tiny rooms, giving my phone number for adorable french boys. No more taking the metro and bus everywhere, running through the Jardin des Plantes. No more spending my afternoons in the Musée D'Orsay. After all this time I've finally gotten the hang of my classes in French, the fastest routes across the city, the steam grates one must avoid, I've made friends with the local homeless people and found out their favorite types of baguettes. For God's sake, I'm kind of dating, and it's time. Time to go. 

Last year at this time I was feeling this very way, too. Right when I settle into things it's time to move on. Maybe that's just how life works though, maybe it's not meant to ever be comfortable.  

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