Then Paris, of Course

The train ride from Amsterdam to Paris was a long one, and in the end, exceptionally unpleasant. The air conditioner stopped working halfway through; the conductor stopped the train in an attempt to fix it; he was unsuccessful, four times; our arrival time was delayed by one hour and countless beads of sweat; fin. I hadn't thought I could be any more eager to be in Paris again. I was.
Once we'd settled into our 10e airbnb and freshened up, the euphoria set in. Rachael, Lorelei, and I were together in Paris again!
After much deliberation, we decided to start with an apéritif at Rosa Bonheur sur Seine. For the record, I hadn't known this place existed--it was one of many bars/restaurants that had come to be after my move back to the United States. Also worth mentioning: my first visit to the original Rosa Bonheur marked my first night out as a Paris resident. Our chosen happy hour spot was, thus, perfectly "full circle". And as we discussed how wonderfully ordinary it felt to be in the City of Lights again, over a casual spread of charcuterie, cheese, and rosé, Rachael and I felt a push. A man sitting on our bench but with the group at the table behind us was making room for himself with complete disregard for our presence and entitlement. We laughed. Yes, sir, we were back in Paris.
Being there, for me, was like one deep and restorative sigh. There was an innate sense of comfort and belonging; an "of course I'm here in this city with these two". That first night, we went from Rosa Bonheur sur Seine, to Mary Celeste, to Glass, to the Grand Pigalle Hotel. We reveled in all the feelings. We clinked glasses to Paris, and to us.