Goodbye, my dear Paris

In this two months you opened something in me.

You slowed me down in a way I didn’t know I needed.

You taught me to breathe deeper, to observe more gently, to trust myself without checking things every two minutes.

You softened the noise in my head and replaced it with a quieter rhythm, one that belongs to me.

You brought back Nahal and all our memories to me

Place Monge

In your cafes, in your long walks by the seine, in your chaotic beauty, I learned how to work with more intention. How to eat without rushing. How to listen to my body and my thoughts as if they were friends returning.

And yes, you overflow with cheese, wine, and all the food that makes life feel a little too good, but somehow you make it feel balanced. Somehow you make indulgence feel like a form of art.

Rodin’s Garden

You gave me back my pen.

You brought me back to music.

You made me open a do more again after years of postponing.

For that alone, I owe you something real.

I will miss your joy after buying your daily Croissants :)

I loved that I could still feel the spirit of the 60s and 70s in your corners, the creative electricity, the old ghosts of artists who once argued and dreamed here. But I also realised something important:

that chapter belongs to history, and I belong to my present. You helped me see that nostalgia is beautiful, but not a home.

That the future is wide open when I stop resisting it.

So thank you, Paris, for the space, the inspiration, the clarity and also for beef bourguignon, bavette Steak and frites, jambon crudités and the roasters!

Très bien

You were not just a trip. You were a reminder of who I am when I’m not rushing.

Bon voyage, till next time.