Wednesday, October 12, 2022

Paris, day 245

I'm in Paris, intentionally yet conspicuously alone.  I think this city, like all the great cities of the world - New York, London, Rome - are meant to be shared with someone.  Is there a place where I'm meant to be alone?  It feels like anywhere I go now will be that alone place, for me anyway, for the rest of my life.  I've seen all the sights, the art and architecture. I climbed the towers of Notre Dame, before it burned obviously, and laughed at how tiny the Mona Lisa is.  What am I supposed to do now?  Tomorrow I will scatter her ashes here, her last wish.  I think that's supposed to give me closure.  I can't imagine that it will.  I eventually have to go home and finish dealing with her things, selling what I can and giving away what I can't.  Maybe that will give me closure.  In the house that we bought together, with the puppy we loved together.  When the memories fade, as they inevitably do, will the hole fill itself in or does life just permanently shrink to its new, smaller size?