I am sitting on the balcony of my friend's third story apartment in the 12th Arrondissement, Paris. Glass of wine in hand, I dangle my toes through the cast iron railing as a soft summer breeze ripples through the few loose strands of hair around my face escaping from my mussy, rumpled bun. All is quiet in the world, save the gentle whir of the zephyr and the occasional discordant siren of a passing ambulance. The wine is cool and soothing on my tongue and lips, some pleasant blend from a box we bought in the shop down the street. These are the moments I live for. Escaping from the chaos that is graduate school, I have fled to France for the next two weeks in some desperate attempt to recompose myself before fall term begins. I am despairingly seeking solace, freedom, passion, excitement, in a world which seemingly only possesses intolerance and monotony. How I long for serenity, companionship, respite from this restlessness that haunts me without end. Haha, I am one silly little girl. If only I had more than words to express myself; if only you could see the tempest that ravages my insides. Here I am: in one of my favorite cities in the world, experiencing the most beautiful weather, sumptuous food, luscious wine, surrounded by romance and history and loveliness... and yet... my heart aches. I feel alive, through and through, but why is this not enough? I smile at life, revel in the warm kiss of sunshine on my skin, the taste of blueberries and crème brûlée
, the laughter of children and close friends and family. I see God and His magnificence all around me... and still. I am lonely. I am restive. Does anyone else feel this? Any kindred spirits out there to put my thoughts at ease? The clock ticks past four A.M. and I do not feel the slightest bit of sleep entering my eyes or my mind. I am quite awake and quite uneasy. I am thinking of you (yes, you) and everything we once had, all those kisses and smiles that come to me in my dreams. I wish you existed. I wish I could feel you, taste you, smell you, right here and now...
What I do smell, is the fresh, nipping air of Paris, and it is lovely, dear, just lovely. But Paris, even the most exotic of places, is New Jersey, is nothing, compared to how I feel when I close my eyes and am in your hands, in your heart...
Sigh. Oh bother. I am a mess, an honest mess :)
Sorry for all the complaining. My restless soul gets carried away sometimes. Tomorrow I will wake up and it will be a new day in Paris. The sun will shine and the men will say "bonjour, belle" and I will have a glorious morning, noon and night. But tonight, just for tonight, I am quite alone. Staring at the empty streets of Reuilly, Helios already beginning to creep up on the horizon, I am alone and thinking of you. I long for you and your love to carry me away. Will you ever come?
