Paris,

We know each other barely, having only met twice before. But to breathe your air is like inhaling spring. Your people are warm and welcoming. Your streets are littered with excitement, and beautiful buildings straight out of a children’s fairy story. 

To be in Paris it to be weightless. It’s got a magic that makes you feel tall and challenges you to tip your chin so high it scrapes against ceilings.

To be in Paris is like standing in a field full of green and spinning with your arms spread wide, or laying in the shade as a hot summer sun beats down. Adventure is weaved into your atmosphere, and even the smallest shop is filled with treasure. 

You smell like cake and fresh coffee, like library books and a warm pavement when it gets wet.

Paris, you are simply…beautiful. 

Today, tomorrow, a month from now, there are bound to be a million think pieces about what went on tonight and why. The world is angry for you, for the people you’ve lost. 

I’m angry too. 

I was so close to putting down that anger in this post, but instead I decided to share what it’s like to know you, especially for those people who have yet to experience it. 
You’re so brave. 

The people you have lost this year will forever be in my heart, their friends and family too…. ❤️

  

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About bookishblurb

YA writer. Jedi. Junk food enthusiast. Rumored pink Power Ranger, and avid collector of book boyfriends.

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