Par1s J3 T'a1m3 [2006] Pjesa Xi

This was my first trip to Europe. I wanted to go there for two weeks, but I couldn't leave my dogs all alone for that long. I really liked the museums and streets of Paris. Only the food wasn't as good as I expected. I considered coming to Paris with a group, but I'm a very independent person. Since I work as a mailman in Denver, I was used to walking every day. I also wanted to live an adventure in a foreign place. Excuse me. And I also wanted to practice my French. Do you know where I can find a good restaurant around here? They say a lot of things about Paris. They say it's a place where artists find inspiration. They say it's a place where people come to discover something new about their lives. They say it's a place where you can find love. Of course, at my age, I didn't expect any of that. But during those days, I thought a lot about my life. I pondered whether I liked Paris and whether I would want to live there if I had the money. I imagined myself delivering the mail every day and getting to know the people who live there. I'm sure they're very nice. I visited a known cemetery, where famous people are buried. I saw the grave of Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir. According to my guidebook, they were famous French writers, who loved each other very much. And that's why they're buried together. And I saw the grave of a man whose name was Porfirio Diaz. According to my book, he was Mexico's dictator for 35 years. It was interesting to be near a man who had had great power, but who now could not move or talk. I thought about my sister Patty, who died at a very young age. And I thought about my mother, who died of cancer last year. One day, I also will be buried and maybe no one will come to visit me. But I don't care. I'll be dead. But I'm not a sad person. On the contrary. I'm a happy person. I have many friends and two wonderful dogs. Sometimes I think that it would be nice to have someone, with whom to share this life. For example, as I was looking down on Paris from atop a skyscraper, I wanted to say to someone: "It's beautiful, isn't it?". But there isn't anyone. I thought about my ex-boyfriend, Dave, and whether he'd like this trip. But I felt a little stupid, because it had been 11 years since we last talked. He's now married and has three children. And I found a very pretty little park. I sat down on a bench and ate the sandwich I had bought. It was very tasty. And then something happened, something that is hard to describe. Sitting there, alone in a foreign country, far from my job and all the people I knew, a feeling came over me. As if I recalled something, something that I had never known and for which I had been waiting. But I didn't know what it was. Maybe it was something I had forgotten. Or something I had missed my whole life. I can only tell you that at the same time I felt joy and sadness. But not a great sadness. Because I felt alive. Yes. Alive. That was the moment when I fell in love with Paris and the moment I felt that Paris had fallen in love with me.