I’m keeping myself grounded over all this. It might not happen for a start and if it does happen then we might just mooch around museums for a couple of days with nothing of a romantic or sexual nature happening. I know this, I’m not stupid. Life has, apparently, taught me patience and cynicism and that having hopes and dreams means seeing those hopes dashed against the rocks like a dingy in a tsunami.
That said, even if we simply go there and see museums I regard it as a huge step forward. Me, the woman who I regard as the most beautiful in the world, in the city which is notionally the most beautiful in the world. What could be better?
Of course I let myself dream now and then. Standing on top of the Eiffel tower, at night, there’s a chill in the air. I take her in my arms and I say, “I’m with you, the most beautiful woman in the world, in the most beautiful city, looking over the most beautiful view and if I don’t kiss you right now I feel like I’ll die”. Then we kiss and we cuddle up to each other and just look over Paris.
Life’s so good at the moment and it’s only getting better.I have total confidence in myself and the future. I feel permanently hypomanic. Things I used to worry about I no longer worry about, I look forward to problems as challenges, I embrace the struggle as an opportunity to grow, I look to the future and I set goals.
I look at this situation and I try not to go into it with preconceived notions as to its outcome. It’s a step forward, how big of a step forward or where it leads I naturally have hopes for, but I try not to let the hopes become expectations. I want to see where I am on the other side of it. Maybe where we are on the other side of it. It’s giving me something to aim for, a goal to achieve since logistically I’m not ready to go traveling. I need the money, I need to plan it all out and for a bipolar nut like me still kind of recovering from a breakdown traveling is a huge step.
Like, I might go to Munich because there’s someone there to meet me at the airport and my accommodation is sorted and I have someone who speaks the language with me and if push comes to shove there are friends a couple of hundred miles away that will come and get me. I suppose they’re just as close to Paris as they are to Munich now that I think on it but anyway. Traveling somewhere else makes me incredibly nervous. I don’t even like getting on busses because I worry about getting on the wrong one. The idea of going through an airport on my own terrifies me but this is the challenge, this is the thing to be overcome. This is the next step.