that time I was actually in Paris

(Background story: we (Wena and I) were walking the streets of Paris looking for the Notre Dame. The wind was icy cold, just imagine rubbing ice on your face for fun - that's what it felt like walking with the Paris wind blowing on your face. My hands were frozen, and they hurt. We stopped by the bridge with all those love keys. There was a nook, like a balcony in the middle of the bridge and we stopped, despite the freezing weather, to take solo photos of ourselves.  Still I couldn't believe I was actually walking the streets of Paris - me, at 28, in my dream place. Every corner was incredibly pretty, European pretty, you know where it's kind of gloomy but it seems like every fucking thing came out of a movie set, a movie that's romantic and most likely intellectual. I can't say I did not love every minute of it.)