A Goodbye to Paris

Tomorrow morning, I'll step on a plane, flying away from Paris. Also, I left yesterday. And three weeks ago. And parts of me, I think will never leave.

Here, on the eve of departure, watching the sun dip into the horizon - a little further South each day - I've been pondering on how pliable time is.

How it stretches, moves, sticks and comes with us. Two weeks ago, sitting in my favorite café, I felt the pang of loss - for the very place I was still quite literally in.

Grief never plays out evenly, never quite flows forward from the event it's supposed to come from. It's sticky, like molasses, folded over onto everything, and found in unexpected places, moments you weren't ready for.

I've been caught by it - walking the banks of the Seine, glancing through the now-empty bookshelves in my apartment, pressing my feet into the soft white soil in Tuileries - heart filled too full, emotions leaking out.

It washes through, leaves, and I'm left never sure when it will come through next - only the knowledge that it's true.

I'll be heading through the US for the next few weeks, spending too-little time with people that mean the world to me - and I know it will be so, so meaningful to see all of them again. After that, the next leg of the adventure waits.

And I'm excited for every bit of that. But today, more than anything - I just want to stay.

Have a felt week,

-Steven

Please Note: I'll be taking about a month off of the letters as I pass through the states and spend time with friends and family - but I'll be back toward the start of October. Keep an eye out, and I'll see you then. :)

p.s. The best thing I read this week was the start of Wait-But-Why's mega-post about the story of humanity. It looks to be a long, long read - but like so much of his work, well worth the time.