Le Décompte Final

One more week.

One more week of pain au chocolate, and croissants, and baguettes.

One more weeks of macarons, cups of chocolate, and French yogurt and cheese.

One more week of paninis, nutella, speculoos, and creme de marron.

One more week parlant français.

One more week thinking that every step I'm taking is being taken on la terre français.

One more week of L'Arch de Triomphe, Musee Carnavalet, La Tour Eiffel, Les Champs Élysées, les Jardins Tuileries, and walking along La Seine.

One more week is all I have left. People ask me how it feels. Why do people ask that question? I'm never going to ask anyone that question ever again. How SHOULD I feel? I feel sad. I feel happy. I feel excited. I feel stressed. I feel everything I felt just before coming here but now for different reasons. That is how I feel. So cue the Benton Paul folks, I go back to the States in a week, let the emo-ness begin.

There comes a time for everyone to find a place where they belong,
feeling alone out on the ocean.
Yours and mine are different, yet the same. 
Go out and back again, harboring most of the emotion.
You climb aboard and sail away beyond the stars of everyday, 
searching for some clear direction.
The shore gets closer every day, and clouds begin to fade
the compass reveals your destination.

Quand tu arrives a Paris, tu ne veux pas partir.
Quand tu arrives a Paris, tu ne peux que sentir,
l'amour, la joie. 
Tu veux jamais rentrer;
L'amour, la joie,
tu veux jamais rentrer chez toi.


The Petersons said…
Time sure flies! What an amazing experience you've had. We'll be in AZ from the 21 to the 30. Let's play.
Anonymous said…
Hurray! Come home! I love you!Love Mom
Rachel said…
Coming home is always hard. Always. Good luck with the transition!

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