If we were having coffee, I would probably ask you how yours was. I would ask you what flavor you got or if you added milk and/or sugar. I would probably end up telling you the story about how I became a coffee addict at the age of 14, how my earliest memories revolve around coffee and midnight conversations around the dinner table. I would probably end up finishing by saying I really miss my mom. We did not have much time together before I moved to Paris and we used to have afternoon coffees when I got home from school. I would tell you that she is my rock and I have called her crying, full of happy news and so forth on so many occasions. I would tell you that she is the kind of person I want to be like when I am older, loving and willing to give. I would tell you that being a nanny at the moment is hard in some aspects and I always ask myself, what would my mom do? I always try to handle it with as much patience as I see in my mom (in certain ocassions – love you mom).
I would probably end up leading into how much I love Paris and am not homesick at all, just miss people tremendously. Taylor Swift is coming out with a new album and my sister and I are not freaking out about it together for the first time. I miss my dad with his random phrases of advice. I would probably somehow talk about the bizarre weather in Paris and autumn. AUTUMN. Oh my god, it is my favorite season, or as a friend of mine said, my favorite color. Reds, browns, oranges, dark greens… I love all of those. Also, if you have not been able to tell at this point, red somehow depicts my life (if you met me in person, one of the first things that would most likely catch your eye is the fact that my hair is red. For your information, not naturally).
I would probably tell you that I have learned what it is like to truly be lonely. I have been lonely, I have been depressed, I have put others first before myself for a really long time. I would tell you that this is the first time that I have been lonely for me… in a good way. I would tell you that it has been hard. It has had its really good moments and its rather, extreme emotional roller coaster ones. I would go on about how there is nothing better but getting lost in Paris (except when you are with a 4 year old you take care of). I would probably confess that I have cried in public places because the honest truth is that I am living in Paris, a dream come true. I would rant about love, because I am slightly reminded everyday that this is the city for that. I would be blunt and say “I need some me time”. I would probably confess about that love affair I had before coming here, the breakup that followed, my first strange long sequence of missing someone. I would tell you that my latest breakup has led to figuring out myself, that maybe a time of being by myself is going to be okay. I would say that it was my hardest breakup and I am still in the midst of getting over it. I would talk about how crazy I felt I was acting, how I did not feel like myself for not running out on the relationship when I had every opportunity to. I let my emotional wall come down, the first time I have let someone I have had strong feelings for in completely. It was that one relationship that taught me a lot. I would explain that emotions have nothing to do with time and that emotions are unexpected. I would lead the conversation back to Paris though and say that I am here and I have to forget certain instances of my past.
When traveling, you have to pack light. You need to rid some of the emotional baggage we as people carry.
Then I would ask about you and hope our coffees have not gotten too cold after all that talking.
(Photograph found on http://www.thisiscolossal.com. Photograph belongs to: Mike Breach).