Every so often, I dream about Paris in a way that makes me feel homesick.
This time it was early summer, like the first time I went. It was warm; just warm enough to not need a jacket. It was dusk, but the dark was frozen. It didn't get darker the entire dream. I think that's my favourite time of day in Paris. I guess it's the time when I feel like romance should happen, but it never did in real life.
Paris is something that I can barely believe exists. What happened there the first time was so incredible that I find it hard to accept that it might not always be that way. In reality, I want to go to Italy. I am going to Qatar. But every time I think of being somewhere, it's Paris.
In my dream, Daphné was there. We were standing on the Pont Alexandre III. The Eiffel Tower was behind us. We were looking toward Notre Dame. My heart was full, but I felt so peaceful.
Nothing else happened in my dream. I was just being there, and it reminded me of being in a place that felt so amazing that you couldn't help but feel amazing too. I keep going back for a reason: the remembrance of a person who is still so important to me, and a place that sparked a change in me in just three weeks. Whenever I dream about Paris, I feel like I'm dreaming about home. If it wasn't for where I work now, I would have been living there by now.
I don't regret a single moment of the last 6 months. But I think it's time to plan another trip home.