Paris Preoccupation

H&M sweater
Aritzia skirt (similar)
Acne Studios boots
Chanel handbag
Zara scarf (similar)
Celine sunglasses
Keltie Leanne Designs ring (c/o)
Location: Trappist Monastery – St. Norbert, Manitoba

We booked tickets to Paris about a week and a half ago. To most of the people in our lives, the decision seemed in impulsive – I was in Regina when we chose the dates of our trip. We bought the tickets less than twenty-four hours after I got home, sharing nothing about the plan until all the bookings were made. But we weren’t being impulsive. Or intentionally secretive, for that matter. The plan to go back to Paris in 2019 is one we’ve held onto firmly since we left in 2017. It wasn’t a new idea so much as an inevitability.

We were ready to leave in Paris in 2017 in a way that we haven’t been before, in the sense that it didn’t feel like we were being unwillingly torn from a life we loved. Of course, we did love our life in the capital – we always do. But it was temporary from the start, so we made the most of every second, every day. We had wine with dinner every day and a weekly cake night. On Wednesday and Sunday, we went for runs along the quais, or to the Opera-Garnier and back again. There was time to photograph everything. And photograph everything we did. But we knew we were coming home. I knew my job was waiting for me. Life would go on without us in Canada if we didn’t rejoin it – and residency remained an impossibility. So we came home. And we’re happy here.

But it’s not Paris. The thing I’ve had to come to understand and accept is that nowhere will be, so everywhere I live that isn’t Paris will feel less than perfect. Most days, I go about my routine without any homesickness at all. But the desire to be back in France is always there, bubbling just below the surface, waiting for something – something like booking flights to Paris – to make it boil over.

I had a plan for this post, before we booked our Paris flights. I’ve forgotten what it was entirely. All I can think about, all I have thought about for the past ten days, is going back. The people we’ll reconnect with, the places we’ll go, the cafes we’ll stop at for coffee and wine, and the photos we’ll take while we’re there. I’ve made lists – outfits, restaurants, museums. Every idea I had before our trip became official has left my head. I won’t be in Paris until the end of February, but my thoughts are already there. Sometimes, when I close my eyes and picture a vivid memory, like sitting outside at a little cafe on Place Dauphine on a cold March morning, it feels so much like I’m already there that I can almost smell the slightly burnt espresso and wet cobblestones.