I know it is quite late for blogging, but the reason for this blog is indeed for something very important; I had a dream so real and so familiar, I would feel ashamed for not sharing this reoccurring beauty with all of my dear and faithful friends.
I awoke on a cool summer night in Paris in the year 1920, and was accompanied by none other than my fellow gypsy Hayley. We were both dressed in lovely chiffon and silk dresses with intricate bead work around the collar both dawning vintage handbags and wore black feather headbands around our curled up do’s. We were laughing and walking down a cobblestone street, passing cafes open late for local Parisians who felt the need to satisfy their taste buds with cappuccinos and croquet monsieur’s. We smelled the sweet local aromas of coffee and the musky smell of Parisian cigarettes. Indulging in the vibrant culture surrounding us I began to feel a familiar feeling as if I have walked these streets once before. Shaking this thought from my head we continued down the alley until we reached an opening in which led to an enormous bridge where we spotted vintage boats sailing thru the black night waters of the grand canal beneath it. On the other side of the divide was the Eiffel Tower, so tall and grand, exquisite as it glittered in the moonlight, casting romantic shadows across the black velvet waters. In a whirlwind of shock and desperation we collapsed to our knees crying sweet tears. Regaining our composure we soon were intrigued by the sweet sounds of a brilliant British man playing a guitar on the bridge wall, it soon became clear that he was making sweet eyes at dear Hayley. I looked over at my lovely friend so indulged in the sweet charismatic sounds from this young man; I thought to myself, could this be love? Without moment’s notice she gave me a wink and made way towards this delicious man by the name of Cameron, I was worried at first, leaving dear Hayley with a stranger but as this thought passed thru my mind a calming feeling came over me that said “ do not fret this has happened before”. So I then made my way across the bridge to gain closeness to the Eiffel Tower. As a looked up, lost in thought I heard someone say “mademoiselle”. I loved the sound of this thick Parisian accent so I turned to meet the deep sultry eyes of the most handsome Parisian man, Jean. We locked eyes in which felt like an eternity, at a loss for words, he finally spoke. In perfectly broken English, he asked me "where have you been my sweet girl". Confused, I explained to him I was from American and he must have mistaken me for someone else. He chuckled and stared deep into my eyes, it felt as if he were reading my very thoughts which screamed “take me away” because he then grabbed my hand and signaled that I follow him. Shocked that I was so easily taken by this gentlemen I followed. He led me into an antique elevator in which people were cramming into. Without moment’s notice it began to rise taking us up the brilliant beamed structure of the tower, after about a minute it jolted to a stop and the operator opened the gates and escorted me onto the landing. Jean, taking me by the hand led me to the edge of the railing in which I wrapped my hands around and looked out upon the night lights of Paris. It all seemed so picturesque, then in the distance we heard a rhythmic tune coming from a little old man in a top hat playing the violin. Jean wrapped his hands around my waist and said to me “laissez-nous danser” (let us dance) as I was dancing with Jean I soon felt the familiar feeling I encountered several times that night. As I looked deeper into his youthful eyes, I soon realized we had met before. Soon enough flashbacks began hitting my mind from every angle. “I have danced with Jean many times before” As I finally came to realize we were in fact not strangers, he kissed me and whispered in his thick Parisian accent he has missed me and has been awaiting my return for some time. After several moments of Jeans confessions of love and close slow dancing, it soon became clear to me that Jean was the man of my dreams. As soon as this concluding thought split my brain, the ground began to shake, my vision blurring, I was spinning out of control, I was unintentionally backing away from Jean, and with outstretched arms I heard him yell “until next time my sweet!”
It felt like someone had hit the rewind button on my dream, I was soon on the elevator going back down to earth watching Jean slowly slip from my vision, I was walking back over the bridge to meet Hayley we then began walking back down the crowded alley, until I felt a violent jolt that awoke me from my sleep. As I sat up in bed misty eyed, I began to think, is love nothing but a dream? And once you figure out that you are meant to love does it always become a cloud that violently shakes you into reality? With concluding thought I wondered, will Jean be their when I can again dream of love?
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