I’d like to believe that Paris is the love of my life. I’ve dreamed of going to the city of lights ever since I was young (16). Every time I would see a picture of Paris, I would stare at it and would imagine myself inside it. It’s crazy, I know. But I also know deep in my heart that it’s not the most important thing in the world. More than anything else, I want to fall in love. Not just fall in love. I want to be crazy in love with someone. I want to meet the man of my dreams and make him fall in love with me. I want to find my one true love and keep it forever. I want to do romantic things with him and then start a family when we are ready for it. It’s all that truly matters. Maybe my love for Paris will never be requited but I won’t get heartbroken as long as the man beside me finds time to listen to my nonsense stories. In reality, I know this Parisian dream may never happen and it will be okay as long as he is interested about my ambitions and aspirations. If there is anything more important than Paris, that would be him.

