Since I have returned from Paris things have been…off-balance, I guess is the best way to put it. I keep replaying the events of that night. I keep remembering the feelings we all had in those moments and how drastically and quickly they changed from one extreme to the other. I cannot stop reading about it and checking for updates. I’m constantly calculating 2 miles whenever I drive somewhere. My friends and I cannot stop talking about it with one another. I cannot, for the life of me, stop thinking about what was happening to those innocent people while we were eating dinner and having drinks…just down the road. I don’t want to go anywhere because I don’t want to talk about it yet, which I guess is why I am writing all of this out. I think all of this is normal, and I know it will all pass. I’m just still in shock that it all took place and am not sure how to process it.
Will I visit Paris again? Without a doubt, and even more so now after all of this has happened. I have never in my life been more impressed with the French people. I know the French have a reputation of being snotty and rude, but we had more people stop what they were doing and go out of their way to help us than anywhere else I have ever been. I have an even greater love for them now than I did before.