Its been six years since I have been to Europe. Sometimes I think I can remember the feel of walking on streets that are older than our country. I remember the smell of a crepe being cooked on a large stove top, mixed with cigarettes and city. The constant hum of voices, whose words I can not distinguish, but somehow make me feel like my own voice belongs. I think I remember how the morning sun feels as it bounces off of buildings, with window displays of cheese, breads, and flowers. I wonder if these memories are hold true. Or if my reflections are just a romanticized version of the city. Please don't disappoint me Paris. I hold you in such high esteem. I have not forgotten about London. While I have not met you yet, I have high standards for you too. One week left until I leave the nest, and I am torn between feeling freedom, and reserve. I guess that once you find love, and a home with that love. One no longer feels the need to fly away. So while I know I will miss my nest....... and my lover that is staying behind. I will find the piece of my heart that I left on the city streets, and bring it home again. I can't wait to share what I find with you. Wish me luck!
Love,
Little Red
Are back from your adventure? I want to hear all about it. And would like to see some pictures.
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