île Saint Louis

Chére Som,

Thank to our initial ignorance, unsuspecting of its desirable nature, so that we had the incroyable luxury to have île Saint Louis as our first home in Paris. We were unaware of the ardent love that we soon devoted to this petit île that has everything we need to live in both dreams and reality. Little did we know that it is the island that every Parisian, or tout le monde, dreams to go home to every night after several glasses of wine by La Seine. Little did we know that luxury of having Notre Dame as our guardian angel soon became the most irreplaceable view both leaving and coming home. Little did we know the addictive sinful pleasure to walk out of our apartment under the envious gaze of the tourists on our island.

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Needless to say, we fell in love with this island immediately. It was too easy, and we felt no shame of the cheapness of our love, because no one could have resisted it.

Île Saint Louis is the heart of Paris, but it stands perfectly by itself as a floating recluse from urban pollution. People take une promenade on the island to escape the noises and crowds but still get to enjoy the enchanting murmur of La Seine. We indulged ourselves in this endless promenade every single day. The choice to stroll through our island is often an end of itself, and we didn’t need to use our desire for the sinful pleasure of Berthillon as an excuse. We found ourselves trapped in the melody of the guitarists singing on our favorite pont Saint Louis, almost too often. Pont Saint Louis connects our lives and souls with our Parisian home and obsessions, and we rest our soul and love in one of those love locks whenever we passed by the sidewalks. We spoke to teenagers playing football with our broken French, and we sit in the cold chatting with a Colombian musician who was, too, falling for the beauty of Paris and struggling to obtain it as part of his real life. As if, love for Paris is our language to connect our souls with the rest of the world.

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You and I. You and I, how many times had we listened to the chattering of La Seine and wished the nights will never end and the days will continue.

Ma tiny Chérie, tu me manques et notre vie sur notre île me manque toujours, comme toi.

 

Bises,

T

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