The City Of Love (?)

The elevator in the apartment is meant for three. I am a small person, as is Jennifer. Facing one another in the elevator, we can barely breathe. I would take a selfie to illustrate, but in order to do so, I will have to enter the space with my arm raised above my head and with phone in hand, because there is no way to move limbs once inside. I will eventually get there. Promise.

Walking around the streets and sitting in the cafes, it’s easy to understand how the French use space – with minimal room for mobility and dance moves. I imagine they expect the third person in the elevator to squat on the shoulders of the first two.

Or it might just be that the elevator was built in the service of facilitating make-outs and love.

Is it Paris that is called the City of Love? Definitely, it is the City of Lights, but love keeps popping into mind here. Everywhere you turn, people are loved-up, making out, holding hands, staring into the eyes of the other dreamily. No matter the age, there is an unabashed display of tenderness everywhere you look.

Like at lunch today –

Sitting at a tiny table beneath a white and yellow canopy adorned with white lights, I was crushed into one couple, and directly facing another. Both were extremely demonstrative, and it was really and truly a lovely thing to experience. Especially when North America leans towards the more puritan regarding public displays of affection; and especially more still when I love pda, and have no issue being a part of the annoying couple so very much enjoying and curled into the physical space of the other.

Touch is such a crucial form of communication, and it speaks quite boldly about the health of any given couple, I believe.

Know what else I discovered, and which I love? In North America, the general rule is that people are non-monogamous until they have a ‘where / what are we’ conversation. This, to my personal taste, is not a winning fucking situation. (See what I did there?) Unexpectedly, here it is the opposite. People assume and engage monogamy unless a ‘we are not monogamous’ conversation happens.

I am heartened. I think I need to move to Paris.

Today, I am grateful for:
1. Courage.
2. Vulnerability.
3. All of the health benefits of meaningful touch.

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