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When looking up a new apartment to rent, I found that I could buy an apartment not too different from the one I live in for a price that was reasonable, much more reasonable than I ever imagined, and have a mortgage less than or equal to rent in the area.

Wow.

Add to this the fact that I have a permanent job and I work for a financial company that gives preferential treatment to its employees.

I could own a piece of Paris.

The idea immediately seized me, and I started wondering if I could swing it and well, if I would be in Paris long enough to make it worthwhile.

Later the same day, I learned that with the restructuring of my company, it would be both easy and advantageous professionally to move to London. Salaries would be adjusted accordingly.

I knew immediately I didn’t want to do that.

The next day I booked a big trip through Central Europe which I’ll do during my break between contracts.

I was euphoric.

I went to my habitual Lebanese sandwich shop and bought a guidebook on Romania near St Michel, and tried to find a not too hot place to eat on the Seine. Unsuccesfull, I found a park bench not far away and inhaled my sandwich, taking a look around me, and realizing, this is as good as it gets.

I created the life I want, through the grace of God.

I love what I am experiencing, and the person I am becoming.

And the idea of owning a piece of Paris is very, very attractive to me.

I did some research though and real estate prices have dropped (though more in the affluent areas), and the historically low interest rates won’t necessarily make up for that. You really have to own for 6 years to have a chance of recuperating your invesment, let along making money. Rent control laws have been passed recently, and property taxes have increased.

Still, I’ll have to see how the cookie crumbles.

I really want to find myself a home. Something made completely to my taste.

Yes, I hope to have a significant other, but at this point in my life, one of th ebenefits of being single is that I don’t have to share.

The idea of having a space perfectly tailored to my needs, my own chez moi, a place I don’t have to leave- that would be really really awesome.

I hope I find my own space soon.

I like the little slice of the universe I’m on.

However, maybe by letting it go, it all gets down.

And I’ll find a way to paint my walls anyway, perhaps.

And I want to have customized storage and DIY projects and all that jazz.

What I think I wanted most, and can only give myself, is permission to stay, in a place where I’ve found bliss.

Yes, I can do that.

I don’t need a reason to stay.

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