The Past 2 Weeks in Paris
How did I get here?
Somewhere in the haze of packing, saying my goodbyes, tears, panic attacks, travel, more panic, arrival, making friends, job interviews, apartment hunting, bottles of wine, metro learning and sore, sore, sore feet,
It’s 10 p.m., or as they say here, ‘22h,’ and I am standing on a boat surrounded by strangers on the Seine. Directly in front of me the Eiffel Tower is sparkling, bright, a blinding contrast to the black sky. I am pretty sure that at this moment no one else in the world could be luckier than me. I think back to being 16 and deciding I would live in France for a year. To all the struggles that I’ve faced since and all of the doubt; to all the people who helped me get here, and I am so sure. This is really it, I am here, I am living my dream come true.
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