Love is by no means rational. Nor should it be. Hence my decision to move to Paris. I didn’t think much whether it made sense, given that I didn’t speak French nor did I have any career prospects or know more than 3 people. But what I did have was much greater an achievement than learning a foreign language, much more stimulating than a strange and exciting new culture and indeed more fulfilling than endless girls nights of carousing. I had found my great love, and lucky me, his home was Paris. Had I followed my heart given that his home were in a more remote part of the world, say Knin in Croatia? (He would then be a 6 foot 6 basketball player no doubt). Perhaps then I would have convinced him to move to NYC to play for the NBA, who knows. But that is not my story, nor is it meant to be. My dream has always been Paris. And yes, for the sake of sounding terribly corny, if you believe in your dreams they do come true.

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