Leaning my weight against the heavy oak doors that marked the entrance to the hotel, I waded out into summer’s nighttime air, a slight breeze ruffling the thin windbreaker I wore. Standing outside of the hotel under the pleasant moonlit sky, I hoisted my backpack higher onto my shoulders and waited for my uncle to check-in. Letting my eyes adjust to the deepening darkness that engulfed the skyline, the night came alive with hundreds of glowing streetlamps spread out all over the city. The hazy radiance from the lamps brightened up the cityscape, giving welcome to its visitors.

This wasn’t my first trip to this continent full of classic, historical beauty, but I barely remembered the last one. The sparse number of memories that were left behind from the last trip showcased the importance that this trip represented to me. I never really thought about it until then, but the memories you take with you were as precious as droplets of water in the desert. When they were gone, there was nothing you could possibly do to bring them back. And it was in my best interest to make some new ones.

My father always felt that it was a crucial part of any person’s education; to try and understand other cultures and the philosophies contained within their histories. But my eyes often glazed over from the boredom that I felt within, even though I soaked up the information like a savant; the idiot kind. It was all a bunch of facts that I happen to remember, but never felt that they were significant to me. My desires were much more wild and carefree, tied to my restless spirit, the wanderlust within.

Looking around, the urge to run off in either direction and explore tugged at the puppeteer’s strings that bound me to my earthly shell. My impatience prodded me, vehemently wishing to be set free. But I held fast to the knowledge that there were still many days left in this vacation. There was nothing on either continent to hold me back.

“So what do you think?” Lynn asked, sneaking up behind me and putting her arm around my neck.

“What do I think about what? Being here?” I asked offhandedly. I ignored her arm, steadily trying to pull me over with her body-weight. It was something we used to do as kids, rough-housing and wrestling in sibling fashion. We were physical equals then, not so much anymore.

“Yeah, we’re in Paris! Look how beautiful it is, especially at night,” she said excitedly, yanking me even harder to one side.

“Eh, it’s alright I guess. Lights, buildings, and people,” I said dismissively. I continued to stare off into the distance, consciously hoping that something would happen to illustrate and justify my cousin’s excitement.

“I told you that you can’t mope,” she scolded, cuffing me in the shoulder as she did so.

Raising my eyebrow at her, I gave her a look of doubt. “Don’t make me turn you into a pretzel,” I playfully threatened. “I’m more than big enough now to do it. You’ll wake up like this, looking like a retard,” I said, as I showed her a quick demonstration of what she might look like.

“Oh yeah?” she challenged, and she punched me in the arm instead.

Grabbing her arm, I quickly slid up her sleeve and slapped both of my hands on her bare arm. Twisting my hands in opposite directions, I gave her an Indian rugburn.

“Oow!” she yelped, as I grinned and snickered at her momentary pain. I shuffled to the side to avoid a flailing arm and took off, running in a circle.

“You are so dead!” she yelled at me, and started to chase me around. In between the cars we ran, stopping and reversing direction, weaving and ducking through the gaps. I stayed just enough ahead of her to be out of reach, but close enough that she could almost imagine catching me, all the while laughing at her scowl.

“Like you can catch me,” I taunted, catching glimpses of her over my shoulder.

Having not paid much attention to where I was going, I ran into the path of a man and his family coming up to the entrance of the hotel. I spun out of the way and stopped myself by making hard contact with a lamppost.

Lynn rushed over and half-pulled me out of the way, while I rubbed my shoulder that had collided with the post. “We’re so very sorry for getting in your way,” she apologized breathlessly.

“Hey, next time, pay more attention.”

Looking up, I mumbled a quick apology to him and backed out of the way. Trying to catch my breath, I spotted a girl and a boy peering out from behind the man, who I could only assume to be their father. The boy was younger than I was, not more than eight or nine, but the girl was around my age. Her gaze caught my attention and held it with gentle intensity. She regarded me with an air of curiosity, an innocent smile seeking refuge on her lips.

“‘ello.”

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, to be continued…

The steady humming of the jet’s engines had eased me onto a plane of purgatory, devoid of physical trappings. My thoughts swirled around, constructing a private mental barrier that sound and other distractions could not penetrate. Staring at the ceiling, I thought about the days following my graduation from middle school; routine days of uncertainty and doubt.

There were times when Jess’ image would flicker against the backdrop of my mind’s eye, as I routinely went about my days, casting a heavy iron-laden net over my conscience. There were moments of weakness and self-loathing, for I recalled those very last minutes of our encounter. I had lots of time by myself to ponder the things I said and wondered if I had made the right choice. I had second thoughts about getting on this plane, believing that, maybe, just maybe if I had stayed behind, things might possibly be mended.

But on the other hand, there are some things that aren’t worth salvaging. This might have been one of those times.

If I had stayed, what could I possibly do anyway? Could what we had be mended? Was there any way to piece together what we had? Maybe even a friendship? There wasn’t a day that went by where my logic and my heart refused to fight, shedding each other’s blood on the battlefield of my soul. Weighing the pros and cons turned into some sort of sickness, a torturous way to pass the time.

Nothing could be done about it now, seeing how I was 35,000 feet in the air, soaring east, on our way to France.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lynn asked.

“Nothing really. Just stuff that happened at school before I graduated.”

“Oh, like what? Girls?” she said jokingly, as she prodded me with her elbow.

I looked over at her, and didn’t say much more, giving her pause to her familial teasing. Shrugging, I went back to staring out of the window at the skies, and the growing darkness that was equal to the growing bitterness that was taking over the space in my heart. I knew that it was supposed to be a fun, family trip, but a large part of myself refused to let me enjoy it. It would rather I suffer the constant soakings in the vat of pain that I had created.

Lynn was my favorite cousin. She was 4 years older than I was, but the closest family member to me in age, aside from my younger sister. She was well into her high school years, and since she was the only child in her own family, she was used to the older sister role in mine. Although she had my respect and love, she knew that she couldn’t push me too far. I was physically bigger and stronger than her, and I often treated her as an equal, rather than with awe and admiration.

“Yeah, some things happen this past year between me and a girl. Another guy was involved, and it’s eating me alive,” I confessed quietly.

“So, what happened?”

Long moments passed before the words slowly tumbled end over end, spilling out of my mouth like a roaring river that had been dammed up for too long. All the sadness, anger, resentment and bitterness that had been suppressed for the last few months was suddenly released in a geyser-like shower. I wasn’t really talking to her, sometimes looking out the window or looking at the floor, trying to keep myself from getting overly emotional. As I recited my story from the beginning, I filled in bits and pieces of missing background along the way. When I was finished, I sat back and sighed, looking out of the window once again. I felt a great weight lift from my shoulders and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomache eased a bit.

Minutes passed before she leaned over and hugged me tightly, acutely aware of the pain I must have been going through. She didn’t utter a word for a long time, and just held my slumped shoulders in her arms, trying to give me as much comfort as she could. Letting go, she sat back and looked at me with a proud glint in her eye.

“I guess you’re not a kid anymore,” she said with an air of finality.

“Oh? Was I ever a kid to begin with?” I joked.

There was some truth to that, seeing how I somehow found the short cut to growing up, due to my precociousness. Unfortunately, understanding the world around me and growing up quickly didn’t mean that I was mature. My maturity came in random spurts and unpredictable bursts, which more often got me into trouble, than kept me out of it.

“Yeah, you’ll always be a kid, but I’m pleasantly surprised and proud of how well you’ve handled this whole ordeal. There might be hope for you yet.”

“Yeah, well, I understand, but it doesn’t hurt any less,” I said, choking back the sadness that still permeated my skin, like thousands of fiery needles.

“Things will get better, believe me, but try to leave it behind you, if just for this trip. You don’t want them to worry about you, if you’re moping around all the time, do you?”

“No, I guess not. Don’t want them to call home and have Mom get on my case about it.”

An announcement pulled our attention away from the conversation and directed it outside the plane. It was dark out as the wingtips grazed the topmost layer of clouds blanketing the city. They were scant and gave the well-lit city an ethereal feel, like being trapped inside of a fog machine as strobe-lights flashed all about. It was a beautiful sight to behold, the city filled with glittering lights, filtering through the clouds that surrounded the area. We had already begun our descent and spent the next 15 mins getting used to the change in cabin pressure.

A sharp jerk and squeal of the wheels told me we had touched down and we were taxiing toward the gate.

Paris; the city of love, light, and splendor.

“Bonjour, Paris, la ville de la lumière.” I muttered.

We had arrived.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, to be continued…