Paris

I spent a lot of time today trying to figure out where the best place to stay in Paris would be that I can actually afford. It's tricky, to figure these things out when you have no idea what you are getting yourself into, and there will be no one there to help you if you mess up.

He suggested I stay at the place he stayed when he went there with that special someone that made such an impression on his life that he looks happy in all the photographs. I checked it out, but knew that I wasn't going to stay there. The last thing I need is to be depressed in Paris because I'm staying in the place where he spent such a wonderful romantic getaway with someone he actually loved. Wondering if they sat at this table at breakfast, which room was theirs, if I'm in the very bed where they slept together.

No. I need to make memories that will not involve him. Have stories that he will not be able to compare to his own experiences. Have something new that he doesn't know about. Apparently, Paris isn't big enough for the two of us. Or rather for our memories.