Well, they call it all kinds of things and correct me if I am mistaken, but isn't Paris known to be one of the most (if not the most period) romantic cities in the world. Here I am, one of the biggest critics and fans of love in romance-ville (ville is the French word for city, so this one really makes sense). It wouldn't be right though, regardless of who I am or what I aspire to be, to not write at least one love blog during my stay here.
So Steve arrived around lunch time here on the 6th. He was wearing a white collared shirt, jeans and carried an orange gerber daisy (my favorite flower) in his hand as he approached me at the airport. I think there was a bit of a blackout moment if not a few, since we had a somewhat serious pause for a couple of weeks before he came. I felt skeptical and uneasy about his visit, because here is a person I have a great connection with in front of me, and a bag full of fear and insecurity wearing me down. After the blackout, we both tried to regain ourselves and act somewhat normal on our walk to the train. There is nothing normal about being in love though, let's face it. We walked hand-in-hand out of the airport and kissed like no one was around (sorry I know, gross). What followed was 10 days of absolute perfection, even in its imperfect moments, his stay here was just like a movie. The city seemed different, the lights seemed brighter, and all in all, it's like I *just* moved here. I get it now, I do. I feel like we managed to do so much yet the time flew by so fast that it all just seemed like one day. We joke around about this, but we literally ate France (and Bulgaria.) Most nights whether we stayed in or went out, it really just felt like the city was ours and that this was just a dream neither of us wanted to wake up from. One of the nights we just stood on one of the bridges over the Seine, and I just started crying because it was just so unreal, and I wondered if I'd ever feel this way again. I am such a sap like seriously.
It was cool I think for Steve because this was his first time out of the States. God, just seeing his face when we first went into "Paris Paris" was priceless, and everything aside, just that face was worth his whole trip to me. There is something about being able to show the person you love something they have never seen before and be able to experience it with them like it's your first time seeing it too, it's just indescribable.
So Steve and I had talked about taking a trip somewhere outside of France. I gave him a couple of options like Madrid and Prague, but in the end, he said he wanted to go to Bulgaria. Now, this was sweet as I have been planning a trip to see my dad for the longest time, but due to "something" coming up the weekend I was going to go, I didn't think I was going to be able to. Well, so there we were with 1 day to see all my family and friends (or most of them anyway). The poor guy didn't speak a word of Bulgarian, and he just managed so well to sit through all of the endless conversations. He just has such a good way of looking at things, it makes me kind of jealous. I will never forget us sitting on the couch in my dad's living room, and how he brought tears to my eyes when he said something along the lines of how amazing this experience was for him.
Anyway, all in all, Paris, I'm convinced now. I get it.
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