06132017/paris.txt

Every day, for one reason or another, Genevieve wanted to spend time to herself. Neil thought he understood it, but every day, for hours? He didn't speak French at all, really, and barely knew enough to buy a croissant and coffee from the café near where they stayed. He used his phone's GPS to find his way to Shakespeare and Company, and eventually found it after a few missed streets and turns. He really should have been working on his book, but he couldn't find it in him that day to sit in front of his computer screen. Not when he was in Paris.

How ironic is it that I'm in Paris without you? he thought as he stepped into the bookshop and began browsing. A few hours later, with two books in hand, he left and eventually found his way back.

Later, back at the rented flat, Neil pulled out his laptop and opened up his email client.

I'm in Paris. Of all places.

When we were together, you said this is once place you always wanted to visit. I promised one day we'd go, but with work and everything else, life got in the way. And now I'm here, stuck in a situation I know you'd laugh at. I don't miss you as much as I used to, but something about this place, at the beginning of summer, with everything green and in bloom, contrasted with this situation, makes me miss you a lot.

I told you I loved you for the first time on a summer day just like this.

Neil leaned back in his chair, stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, and deleted the draft.