Getting Over Heartbreak in Paris

“I think I must be the saddest girl in Paris. I wonder how many people are heartbroken at any given time, and a Google search tells me 14%. I look up the population of Paris and do the math. So there may be 279,999 others within these city limits. The clouds overtaking my brain insist I am feeling the worst of all of them. But no, I was sadder yesterday, I reason with myself. So perhaps there is another girl out there today who is feeling as bad as I did yesterday. Just one sleep, and already things are a bit better. full essay on substack, click the link”

“I am reading in a park by the lake when I see equipment being set up on a nearby stage. Soon, accordion music and French singing flood the air while septuagenarian couples dominate the dance floor. It’s a Bal Populaire, and I watch as men and women waltz. The chairs surrounding the stage are quickly filled, and I give mine up to an elderly man with big glasses and a wobbly gait. Within a minute of him sitting, he spots familiar faces and shakily stands back up to give them an enthusiastic wave across the lawn. It seems like everyone knows each other, and it seems like everyone knows how to dance. Watching couples and friends twirl and laugh, I have a silly feeling that I am being let in on a secret. An excerpt from “It’s okay to be sad in Paris” on substack, click the link”