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“The ultimate lesson all of us have to learn is unconditional love, which includes not only others but ourselves as well.” ~Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

So the past nine months since I have moved to Paris have been much harder than I ever imagined. My dream came true, but I had a hard time letting myself be happy.

Sure, things are still coming together and there have been difficult moments, but I’ve been hating France, and Paris, with such a passion and disagreeing with everything I could about it, playing devil’s advocate to an extreme, and complaning about everything I could find to complain about largely because I was afraid to fall in love, to be in love.

To love something that may or may not love me back.

How long do you love if the love is not reciprocal? This question has been a struggle for me.

But here, in Paris, honestly as much as Paris loves anything it has loved me back in its secret ways. Haussmanien buildings bidding me good morning, Eiffel ower twinkling at night, a job that has turned into a means of making a living into a really bright incredibly blessed part of my life, a language that becomes more a part of me everyday and makes me feel more beautiful, and a culture that never ceases to fascinate, with all its elegance and its cruelty, intentional or otherwise.

No, life isn’t perfect here, but it is good.

I think part of he reason I’ve been trying to come up with reasons to run away is because things are finally staring to get good. Also I fear being one of those people here who comes and never leaves.

And what of my fmaily?

Will I find love? Make my fortune? Make friends?

I have to believe that if I open up my heart, life will open back.

My heart has been closed and afraid for a long time, for many reaosns that had nothing to do with Paris.

It feels so risky to allow yourself to really love something beautiful, to get attached to it, to let yourself be, like St Exupery’s fox, “apprivoisee”

But maybe that’s what I’ve been looking for all along.

And this is not an escape at all, certainly no escape from any part of myslf.

Recently the idea of here and there, “real life,” and this fairytale which I’m livig, have seemed to melt into one. There is just here, right, wherever I am always.

And that here, is here in Paris right now.

And I”m just about to go home for the first time in nine months, and inredibly excited about it. And I have a minimum of nine more months waiting for me here, and after that, who knows…

It’s a glorious mystery, this thing between me and Paris.

I’m so lucky!

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