Sometimes, in life, we find ourselves at a crossroads. In Paris, these such roads are often paved with cobblestones. But with the unorganized road system, they are presented none the less. Over the past few days, I haven't been able to stop thinking about choices. Or, more to the point, the wrong choices.
So many choices, so many mistakes. When we do finally move on from the mistakes we've made and get back on the road, looking ahead, its hard not to stop and wonder if we're still on the right track toward...well, whatever destination it is that we spend our lives striving to arrive at.
Moving, incidentally, makes it much easier to move on- to stop questioning. To stop wondering and to start doing. When we change locations, we change perspectives. And if there is one thing that these two weeks in Paris have taught me, it is to take advantage of that.
As someone who tends to obsess and overanalyze over everything that has gone wrong or seems unfinished- until i've taken every bit of it apart- it is nice to be somewhere not constantly plagued by my previous mistakes.
Failed relationships, ruined friendships, neglected obligations- they seem to accumulate over the years and theres never any telling how long it will take you before you can cut your losses, wipe the tears off of your cheeks, and just keep on trekking.
I have always been a proponent of two things- especially when times are tough: monogamy and best friends.
There is something so appealing, to everyone, about consistently having someone there to rely on. Though I, like so many other disappointed teenage girls, had to stretch my definition of "monogamy" slightly in college, I have been lucky enough to have never really been alone in this way for more than a few weeks at a time. Additionally, I've never been anywhere for long without a friend that I had extreme faith in. In light of this, it was strange for me, coming to Paris, not having any shoulder to cry on- male or female. I had to find an apartment. I had to get a bank account. I had to navigate my way around the city- and it was hard. I like to think that I don't rely on people for a lot- but it has become clear to me, while here, how much I count on others.
I'm horrible with directions. I can't iron clothes without creasing them. I have upper body strength that makes opening pretty much anything impossible.
For the past two weeks though, I have tried to see what I can do on my own. Though I may never be able to open tightly bound jars or unwrinkle my shirts- I am making progress. And I found that, as I was able to tackle issues by myself, not only did I finally stabilize my life out here (with a real appreciation for it) but I got more comfortable with those around me. I've made a good group of friends here, and we have a lot of fun.
"People will treat you the way that you let them" is a line from one of my favorite books and has rung more true over the past few years than I ever could have expected. This is one of those lessons that it takes too long to learn but has really taught me the importance and necessity of independence.
There is a huge difference between enjoying peoples company and in using it as a crutch. It makes sense that in order to be able to be happy, we need to be able to function alone and know that we are capable of doing so. After two and a half weeks, I've realized that this is something I can do. Yes, I still falter. I am still haunted by the ghosts of mistakes past- but aren't we all. From everyone who comes into our life, there is something to be learned that we can apply in taking our next step forward.
The more I am here, exploring this city, expanding my comfort zone, the more it is becoming clear that I, myself, have arrived in a completely different place.
After learning that I am, in fact, capable of existing without her- my best friend will be arriving in Paris a week from Friday. I could not be more excited.
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