My Week in Paris

7/30/2019 My Week in Paris

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Audrey Hepburn was right when she said that Paris is always a good idea. But to me, it was more

than an idea, it was a longing Im willing to satisfy. I just arrived here a day ago and Ill have my next 5

days exploring the city. This is a present for my 18 th birthday, a celebration of some sort. But calling it

a celebration feels eerie knowing that it took every ounce of effort and amount of money just to travel

alone. Too bad my family isnt here to witness the happiness Im feeling. This euphoric sensation Ivehad right after my plane landed. However, subconsciously, I know I want to be alone. Im not

psychoti c and all, but inside of me I am dying to find myself and find someone else whod help me

find it. For once, I wanted to try and catch a butterfly that would accompany me to color my

uninteresting life. Impossible? But theres so much that can happen in a week, and part of it is an

obligation to spend every minute and cent frugally.

~

By morning, I decided to go to a street side cafe near my inn. I could certainly use a cup of coffee and

a couple of Macarons, making it a little head start for the first day of strolling around. I sat there all

alone, indulging with the order that I once saw on the menu. The air was a frosty cold but the sun was

up, and staring at the white table cloth didnt help either. But Im in Paris, what more could I ask for? I

took my brown Satchel and brought out my blue moleskin journal in the hopes of accounting my very

first street side cafe experience. But it felt too petty so Im sketching inste ad, and on the next page

situated a list of books, records to buy, and places I shall be heading off to. As I was carefully

sketching the peak of the Eiffel Tower located across me, a guy blocked the very view that I could see

and all of a sudden he was seated at a table ahead, mirroring me. He was wearing khaki trousers

over tucked-in red plaid long sleeves. He looked in shape and his skin alabaster, whose rosy lips

were unusual for a guy. He looked French but I wish he doesnt speak any as I was dense enough to

speak the language, other than saying Bonjour, Mademoiselle or Monsieur. Just as he was

seated, he took off his aviator shades and unearthed striking green eyes that gently looked down and

towards me. He ran his hands through the strands of his dark chestnut hair that was styled, slightly

tousled but never even a single glance looked half messy. He is, I must say gorgeous, but gorgeousis such an understatement for a guy that looked like him. His guise is like that of either of the Harries

brothers, only that hes more than in between, a lot cuter, almost perfect. Just when I noticed he was

staring, I realized Ive been gazing at him all along. And I wasnt focusing on my journal, o r the Eiffel

Tower or even the sketch that I was doing, I was rather focused upon him. After that, he put his brown

pad and his book Catcher in the Rye , right on his table. I never became aware of those two objects

he was holding, but then again, I made him my focal point and the other things became relatively


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I bet every woman wants to be a Mona Lisa anyway, I guess. I replied, looking up as well. In my

peripheral vision, I saw him looking at me, so I grasped the fact that it was time for me to look at him

too. His green eyes piercing at me, smiling crookedly making every single bit very attractive.

Bonjour. You were the girl at the cafe right? He said, pointing his index finger towards me.

Unfortunately yes, the girl who clumsily spilled her coffee. I said, timidly looking down.

Is it your first time here?

Yes, I arrived here a day ago. A present for my 18 th birthday.

Travelling alone?

Yes. Puts you into very unsympathetic jet lag.

Youll get used to it, for sure. He said.

Nah, I dont think Ill ever come back. I said, already facing him.

And why is that? He replied in a worried tone.

Maybe the money Ill be spending for a trip here would already put aside some cash for the next half

of the semester my sophomor e year in college. I replied, looking down again.

Well, we might never know what could happen. Paris always pulls you back. He smiled and heard a

little laugh just right there.

Im Finn, by the way. He raised his hands just enough for me to shake. An d I returned back the

favor. and Im Jane.

Mind touring you to the city of love?

Be my guest. And we walked out of the museum and let our shadows follow us.

~

So you live here? I asked. As we ambled around flea markets of books, vinyl records and other

cheap buys I wanted for my checklist to be complete.

No, Im here for a vacation just like you. But Ive been here for many times I could remember. He

said, his hands on his pockets as he looked me in the eyes.


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Go to college? I asked again.

Yeah . London School of Photography. He told me. With a smile. Again.

Wow. But youre not British? I wondered.

Im not but I decided to study there. Far from the chaotic city of Manhattan. You?

Oh, a New Yorker. Well, Psychology. Princeton.

Cool, can you read my mind? He joked around.

Thats what everybody expects me to . I replied as I laughed, wishing I could really read his.

~

We still walked and looked around the flea market looking for something we could buy. It became a

lot colder this time, only making everything warm with his presence. I found numerous vinyl records

but nothing of interest made me purchase them, but I bought The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

and a book about everything of Van Goghs paintings, all for a very reasonable pr ice. But I found him

buying nothing.

Am I the only one going to b uy something here? I raised my eyebrows.

Sorta. Figured you could find anything you want here. Besides, Ive been here several times , gottenused to it now. He explained.

Okay. I said i n a tiny voice.

I bet you want to go and do something fun.

That was what I was expecting.

Been to Disneyland?

Well yeah -

But he interrupted me and said, but its a lot more different here in Paris. And he gave out a

charming kind of laugh. I bet he was expecting me to give in to the fall and I did, and there was no

other option I wanted to choose but this.

~


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After a long day in Disneyland riding different kinds of rides and experiencing different kinds of fun in

every turn, indeed, everything was different here in Paris. He walked me home to my inn and he

invited me to take pictures tomorrow in Arc de Triomphe at the western end of Champs-Elysees, and

stroll around Montmartre. Just before I know, he laid out lists too as to where we should go the

following days.

~

We filled up every memory of his camera taking pictures of each other in each of the places we went.

From Arc de Triomphe to biking around Montmartre to eating past ries and sweets in Laduree to

walking around Luxembourg Gardens and he told me that something is in store for me on Friday and

that is going to be a surprise. He got my number as soon as he instructed me on what would happen

on that day. And Ive never be en more excited.

I have never felt this fun in years. It makes me never want to go home nor go back to the life I have

there. This guy, this guy that I have met for almost a week, this guy that I have known for his telling

details but I never wanted to min d. If falling was clich, I wouldnt mind either, because he makes me

so. He would look at me and stare with his green eyes as if hed only been this way for the first time.

He doesnt make me explain the things Im feeling because its all in here inside. All these raging

feelings of maddening yourself to stay and be with him. Maybe he is the butterfly that Im looking after

all, maybe not, maybe yes, this is the kind of risk Im taking. Realizing I was thinking too much, I fellasleep in the cold side of my bed drowning in its sheets.

~

Friday came and that only meant one thing, Im taking flight back home tomorrow. And Ill never see

Finn again. I called him saying he wants to meet me downstairs and so I prepared something to wear.

A prettier and prim dress over black tights and brown brogues bringing with me my bag. He

welcomed me downstairs and casually, put his hands on his pockets just as he always did, just as his

smile always did.

Hi I greeted him with a smile. Where are you taking me mister tour guide?

Its a surprise isnt it?

~


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We took a cab just a few rides away from my inn and from afar, I knew where he were going to the

Eiffel Tower. To the one monument I was only seeing in pictures and postcards and movies. This is

where he was taking me. To the only symbol of the City of Love.

We got out off the cab and he held my hand as we walked towards the foot of the tower. His hands

were cold as mine were shaking. I wanted to tell him that this was the last day Ill be seeing him but

not just yet, Ill try to sink this in.

Le Tour Eiffel. He gave off a smile as he looked up. I smiled too as he did this for me. He looked

down and held out that brown pad he was holding when we met at the cafe. He opened it and handed

it over to me.

Whats this?

Open it.

I held it for a few seconds and opened its pages. In the first few leaves, nothing written or drawn was

over it but as I flicked it in the latter, I saw me. Perfectly sketched, traced and drawn in my state at the

cafe that day. That was why he looked at me intently because of this. Because of this work of art he

was never willing to show.

Why me? I laughed a little.

I saw you from afar that day and I figured I could come up to you but then maybe youd freak out so I

decided to draw you in this pad. I came here looking for inspiration since my mother died and

promised to myself if I ever saw this person to be drawn in this page, it would mean something. It

would be you. The one Im looking. Paris also, has been one of the places my mom loved travelling.

I tried to absorb it for a few seconds as I was in great disbelief.

What have you seen in me anyway? Im a boring 18 year -old girl drinking coffee over that cafe and

nothing else.

But I know youre looking for something too and I would want to take this opportunity to be found.

And also, to find you.

This is what you call speechless. I have all these feeling of bolt inside me that I want to believe thats

real. But yes it was real.

I liked you the first time I ever saw you. I said.


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To your week in Paris. And I g ladly took it out of his hand. Watch it as soon as you get home.

Thank you, Finn. I hugged him tight, as if it were the last time Ill be hugging this way. And he kissed

me. A kiss with respect. He kissed me on my forehead down to the lips. And I have never been

kissed this way ever, before. And I thanked him for that. And I kissed him back. He helped me go

down and bring my things to the cab and onto the airport.

As he dropped me off the airport, I asked him a question one last time.

It took you a week to fall in love with me? Thats almost impossible.

I didnt know love has some kind of a range to find and fall in love with a girl as beautiful as you.

Now that was convincing.

You have my number and you have my card. You have a reason to come back.

I promise. I will. Ill try.

By then I will make our week turn into forever.

He kissed me one last time as I walked straight to my departure.

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My Week in Paris