I decided to write one in English. I always wanted to do that but I was kind of scared of my English skills. English became a part of my life long time ago. When I spent my first 2 months in England I was terrified how little I understand, I speak and think. Some time had to pass for me to realize that I started to think in English when I’ve been there. It still wasn’t very good but when I came back to Poland and started my classes again I heard myself how good accent I have, comparing it to ‘before my trip to London’.
I fell in love with London. I fell in love with England. I fell in love with everything there. I couldn’t find even one disadvantage of living there for permanent period of time. I was desperate, I went to England twice after that. Being desperate is a good expression.
I wanted to live in England or Scotland but now, I don’t really know. Last week gave me an answer. I know what I want to do with my life and this is the best feeling ever. Having plans, even when somebody can tell how rubbish they are. I don’t really care. I love that feeling when I know where I will spend my next December. I’m not scared anymore. London can wait.
On the other hand, I don’t want to leave Paris. The first month was awful. The next two was the best of my life…seriously. I kind of discovered myself once again. Not in the bad way, not in the good way but I know how capable I am of doing and sacrificing something. It was stupid to say that I could sacrifice something for somebody. Somebody told me that we can’t do that because being selfish makes us humans. I’ve been selfish my whole life. How many times I said that I prefer being single and alone at the same time than being with someone, happy but always I will have to count on somebody and make a huge compromise. Then…I have that thought that actually I would like to do that but it lasts not more than one day. I’m the most undecided person in the whole world. I’m testing myself.
Being a realist sucks.
I don’t want to be a realist.
Maybe it is just Paris. Paris made me like that. Paris made me an independent person. Paris made me…me.
I bought my first own Christmas tree. I told that to the girl who I’m taking care of from time to time. I said that almost screaming: “Sofia, I bought Christmas tree, the real one!” Sofia’s answer: “Egh…you and your Christmas tree…”. Thank you 6 year-old girl for cooling down my happiness.
I’m spending Christmas here, maybe it wasn’t the smartest decision but now it’s too late. I was tough. I was saying that I don’t need to come back and then I received a parcel from Poland with Christmas decorations, mushrooms for my favorite soup etc. My grandmother sent me French truffles…and tuna in a tin, can you imagine?
I was touching everything like I was missing something. I’m not that strong as I thought.
I love Paris because of the metro. I’m not joking. You can observe people as long as you want. I like when people are listening to music with their headphones and they are smiling, that they have some good memories because of that song. People have their own worlds here. Yesterday, when I was taking the metro to home in the late evening, I saw two Spanish guys with loudspeaker and they were singing at loud with their dirty faces because they were probably really stoned but they were dancing, laughing and whole train was smiling to each other because of their happiness.
I will miss Notre-Dame. Yesterday I had a really long walk on Marais and on Île de la Cité. For the first time I heard Notre-Dame’s bells. They were ringing almost half hour. It was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
I don’t want to go back to Poland.