I’m just passing through Paris… what a casual thing I never thought I’d have the chance to say. People say, "Paris is always a good idea." But what if Paris, for me, is less about the Eiffel Tower's twinkling lights and more about the fleeting moments of self-doubt and contemplation? I’d love to tell you I’m here to soak in the culture or finally see the Mona Lisa without craning over a sea of smartphones. But the truth? I’m just passing through on my way to London, the next big chapter in this choose-your-own-adventure life I seem to be writing.
This is my second time in the City of Light, a place synonymous with romance, art, and pastries that could make a grown woman weep… it’s me. I am the grown woman who wept, if anyone was wondering. My first visit was overshadowed by… let's call it a 'distracting subplot,' something that kept my mind elsewhere—but that’s a story for another day. For many, Paris is a dream destination, a place where every corner whispers romance and every croissant tastes like a buttery cloud. For me, it's more like an unexpected layover with a side of existential dread.
This time, Paris feels like the obligatory middle child of my journey—not the star attraction, just a necessary part of the trip. I know, I know, sacrilege, right? But here I am, surrounded by iconic landmarks, and still, all I can think about is getting to London and starting fresh. As I stroll through the beautiful streets, I can't seem to shake the feeling that I'm merely transiting, both physically and emotionally. It’s not that Paris isn’t wonderful; it’s just that I’m having a hard time being present. My mind is racing ahead, making lists, planning, worrying about things like my dog’s paperwork and the logistics of getting our lives across the Channel in one piece.
It’s as if I’m in one of those artsy French films where the protagonist is perpetually looking out of a café window, lost in thought, as the rain trickles down. Only, in my version, there’s a very impatient dog by my side, who, much like me, is wondering why we’re not already where we’re supposed to be.
Yet, even in my distracted state, Paris manages to sneak in a few moments of clarity. Like the elderly man who sold me a croissant this morning and wished me "bonne chance" with a knowing look, as if he could see the whirlwind of change I'm in the midst of. Or the quiet brunch at a little café, indulging in French delights and watching the world go by, my dog curled up at my feet, blissfully unaware of the adventure we’re embarking on.
Maybe one day, I’ll come back to Paris and give it the attention it deserves. They say third time's the charm, right? And perhaps that’s when I'll truly see the city—not as a backdrop to my life’s dramas, but as a main character in its own right.
As I prepare to leave, there’s no grand farewell, no melodramatic longing for what might have been. Just a quiet understanding that this is just a part of the journey. Maybe I’m not quite ready for what Paris has to offer. It’s not the city; it’s me. I arrived with a head full of expectations and left with a bag of unanswered questions—like why I thought wearing stripes would make me blend in. Spoiler: it did not.
Paris may not be the focus of my journey, but it's a part of it. And that's okay. Not every city needs to be a grand epiphany or a romantic escape. Sometimes, it's just a stop on the way to something new. And in that simplicity, there's a certain beauty—a reminder that even in these transitory moments, life is happening.
As my dog and I head towards the next chapter, there's something oddly comforting in leaving things unresolved, yes, even for a control freak like myself. Not every visit to Paris—or any place, really—has to end with a life-changing revelation. Sometimes, it’s about the small moments that don’t quite fit into the narrative we imagined: like realizing that life isn't always the movie-perfect experience we expect. It's more like a series of disconnected scenes that might not make sense until much later, if ever. Paris, in all its confusing, charming glory, has reminded me that it's perfectly okay to leave some things unfinished.
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— The Friday Club — A digital hangout where movie nights, shower epiphanies, and life's charming chaos collide. From writer and creator Ash [of @the.ashfiles], expect weekly musings, honest stories, and a reminder that we’re all just winging this thing called “adulthood”. 🎬✍🏻📚
Listening to your posts is like hearing the voice over at the start of a movie - captivating! Good luck with getting to London 🐾