I miss Paris Métro. I miss our futile attempts to read the Métro map. I miss Parisians' effortlessly chic outfits and modernistic ads that oddly harmonize with dim, historic stations. I miss taking photos of approaching trains. I miss the feel of déjà vu in old, metallic trains. I miss the amicable chuckles as we mispronounced the stations. I miss the days when my biggest troubles were figuring out where, when and what to explore at Paris. I miss myself.
Forget about the real deal, you don't find it, it finds you.It means that you get to a certain age and then you're ready,you're ready for kids or a commitment or a mortgage. And the person that you're with then, they become the one. That means it's not who, bu