Writing about Paris is always difficult for me. How can I put words to a place that means so much to me? Each time I place my pen to paper I am reminded again of the vastness of the task that lies ahead.
Amanda and I planned our wedding in July for a few reasons, one of which was so that we could be in France for Bastille Day. We wanted to relive some of the experiences we had shared when I lived there. I wanted to re-walk my daily commute, sit again upon the steps of Montmartre and sip coffee in shops that are much too cool for me.
You see, Paris brings out something wonderful in me. The city, with all its flaws and imperfections, pushes me to carefully consider my own short comings. It makes me realize how often I take myself too seriously, how often I can miss out on the beauty in the day to day.
In Paris, a city of 2 million residents and even more tourists, each interaction felt like the last I would share with someone. I was able to dance across the Champs de Mars knowing the tourists who would point and stare would be gone tomorrow, or at least by the end of the week. I was able to go dancing at night knowing that my chances of seeing any of my fellow patrons again were slim to none.
In a city as big as Paris I felt small and it was beautiful.