For some reason my homesick feelings have set in right before our ten month mark in Paris and I'm not sure why. Paris treats me pretty well (minus those horrible ballet girls) and Sir Lancelot and I have a beautiful life here. It's not like I miss anything particular about home or America (except kale, duh). But for some reason my heart has been aching to be back in New York City. I crave the humid city heat off the pavement and weekends with my girlfriends in Central Park.
As I promised myself I wouldn't do, I keep comparing.
Paris is cold. New York is warm.
I don't have a job in Paris (and yes, I've been more than trying!). I had a job in New York.
I've met lovely women in Paris who have made this place so wonderful but... my best friends are in New York.
In Paris, sometimes I feel lonely and lost. In New York I felt on top of the world and in-control.
|Fifth Avenue, Summer Evening.|
|Washington Square Park on a balmy eve.|
|West 11th St. & Greenwich Ave. No filter.|
Looking back, everything was simpler in New York compared to Paris. I'm not sure if it really was but it feels like New York was simple and Paris is not.
As a nostalgic person, I miss the little things that aren't really even there anymore because as we all know things change, people move on... life continues.