A City of Love

This short blog is dedicated to me, a lover at heart, an honest sharing ...

I have read it in books and poems; I have watched it in the movies; I have heard it through personal experiences ... Paris is the city of love, of lovers, and I saw it for myself. Even above my bed in my small hotel room hung a picture of two lovers wrapped in each others' arms while lying in bed facing each other, their bodies hidden by a single blanket. It's a beautiful drawing of what the city represents, even as the occupant beneath lies alone ...

 

The streets of Paris are littered with lovers, those holding hands, those embracing one another, and those sharing a kiss (although sometimes for too long or with too much of the French way ...). Most of the scenes are charming, whether a young couple just still in the "can't keep their hands off of each other" stage or an older couple still in love after the years of life. The French couples even put their "lock" on a bridge in the city, a charming visual for all to see.

I pause here to say that my parents fall into the second category -- married for 52 years. {BIG SMILE}


Some are lucky to have the storied one great love; others may have many; others none. Regardless, love, for some and however defined, is a necessary element of happiness, and I am one of those ... and with that, I have found my true love ... Me! (Note: my children are the obvious greatest loves of my life, just in case anyone questioned that *smile*) I am a lover of life, of passion, of experiences, of literature, of human touch. I love romance, even if it is in the form of Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights or Janie in Their Eyes Were Watching God or Clara in The House of the Spirits. As I have shared, I am drawn to the tragic loves in literature, which might be the reason I now have the strength to accept my current status of the single woman.

Appropriately, the theme of love continued on the Greek Island as well ...

So be it! As the Beatles sing, let it be. I love!