paris

Its a remarkably autumnal September morning. The date marks things I don't want to happen (return to work for the final month, September in general, uni) and I'm lying in bed, surrounded by stress-inducing mess, refusing to move until 10:30 and the manic rush to make it to work in time.
I'm dreaming of the past, the 2 weeks of holiday I jam packed with a trip to London, a visit to my grandparents, a weekend in Scotland and a paradisiacal adventure to Paris. The latter induces the strongest longing.

The trip was symbolic; Libby was my gap year g (despite living 300 miles away) nd it was a homage to our experiences and adventures and the challenge and growth of our years out. We were celebrating surviving and conquering some of our most testing days, and where better to do it in my favourite city in the golden sun of late summer, drinking wine and slipping into a faux Parisian life.

It was fucking magical, as though it exists in an ethereal paradise, to which my memories don't belong.
Our weekend was filled with minimal sleep and trains and croissants and coffee and pasta and reading in the sun and picnics in stunning spots and endless photo taking and walking and metro trips and laughing and wine drinking and relishing in the peace of Monet's water lilies and the beauty of Paris and hours sitting on the banks of the Seine in golden hour and indecisive coffee traipses and trying to recreate the most cliched Parisian stereotypes (see: stripes, skinny cigs, red, white & blue) vulnerable and intimate conversations (s/o to Libby for encouraging me to do dis)
and speaking broken French and outfit crises and ice cream eating and feeling very, very happy.

Some of my most treasured memories include:
drinking in our apartment, feeling at ease to be totally emotionally vulnerable and wishing time could stop
opening the shutters to see the morning sun and hear the shouts of Paris waking
our picnic in Garden de tuillieres
walking through the streets of Paris at 3am
our meal on the final night, feeling suave and pretending we could actually afford to eat there lmao
reading with wine in hand and the sun on our faces
the eurostar there, excited nd consuming good-ass snacks

I love Paris and this trip reinforced my adoration. It is undeniably stylish and sophisticated and I could stare at the architecture and walk along the banks of the river and explore the parks endlessly. My next dream is to study at the Sorbonne and I refuse to admit its unrealism. I will. One day.

I owe this girl a lot of thanks nd love for saving my gap year, soothing my loneliness, spending hours existentialising with me and just being the best. And I also owe a lot of thanks and madness to blogging nd this site nd the internet which has given me literal friends for life and provided mad opportunities and just given me somewhere to escape when its is all too much.