Additionally, while I was there, my routine changed, my worries were different, my motives and desires and objectives were much different than they are whenever I am home, and a distinct part of me misses that version of me, a version I know I will never have back.
And while being back in Texas with my best friends and my wonderful family is the best thing in the world, that I would not trade for anything at all, a part of me will always be homesick for a city that has only had me for seven weeks. Little things here and there remind me of Paris: a double espresso with extra sugar, sidewalk chalkboard menus, a whiff of Hermes perfume, a historic site stumbled upon by chance, a trip to the art museum. But what brings me the closest to my Paris self is hearing the most iconic song for Paris, La Vie en Rose.
Take a listen for yourself (the Louis Armstrong version will always be my favorite) and be transported to the banks of the Seine at twilight. As silly and truly cliché as it is, this song seemed to play constantly in Paris, especially when doing something très français. I tear up a little bit each time I hear it now.
tout mon amour,