Oh, it’s not everyday of course just when the weather so-so and something triggers it.
When I feel like this I want to be in Paris
I know…who wants to be in Paris alone.
But I’m a bit of a masochist.
When I’m there Paris is my lover – I’m not sure I want to share her with someone else.
I love that when I arrive it' early in the a.m. and she’s already bustling and moving about without a care that I’ve come. Whenever I arrive, she always encased in fog as if she too is unhappy.
For the first few hours I find that I’m not as excited to see her as I was just hours ago on the plane. In thought; in theory; she was a much better lay.
I grumble a bit wondering what made me come this far. I hem and haw wondering if I really feel like seeing her. I unpack and then do something insanely American like finding a Starbucks to nurse my caffeine addiction. But in all actuality I'm really frightened to step into my favorite cafe and use my bad french. I'm afraid they'll know right off the bat that I don't belong in this breathtaking city and toss me out. So I walk back to my hotel room and drink the espresso on the balcony as the sky clears up.
But by the afternoon she starts coaxing me out to come to our favorite spot.
I get upset with myself thinking, “Why not? You didn’t come all this way to sit in a room watching Law & Order in French. She's clever, she knows as soon as I start walking down the streets I'll start to remember how she made me feel last time and I'll be hooked. So I get dressed up and meet her on the Seine a block away from the Eiffel Tower an hour before nightfall.
The sun starts to set and she lifts up her skirt to show me all the wonders of her beauty and I gasp. How could I have been so dense as to have forgotten how glorious our past encounters were? For some reason I feel like if I were kissing someone else at that moment I’d miss these moments – her window boxes,
her soft music wafting out of cafe doors, her pink lights which would be lost on me if I was absorbed in the taste of another lover.
Sigh, I wonder….