Trauma Tour 2025: My trip to Paris

In my last post, I spoke about an upcoming trip to Paris. As the trip approached, I found I was never less excited for a vacation. While I was curious about the destination for several reasons, it was more like something I had to check off, to make peace with and break free of, than someplace I was dying to go.

Chains of Love - Locks in Paris, France

The headache leading up to this trip didn't help. Our flight from Boston to Paris would be the exact route Chris took when he abandoned me and fled into that chapter of his life. The book I chose to take on the plane, My Last Innocent Year, felt uncannily appropriate. Not to mention our accommodations were cancelled just a few weeks shy of our departure date, leaving us with few affordable choices within St. Germain de Pres.

From there, things continued to unravel. Air France wouldn't let me check in until I reached the airport; The business lounge, a mile from the gate, was on par with the waiting area for economy flights; And somewhere in the middle of the night, I spilled leftover orange juice on my seat.

Our first apartment was the size of a closet (so, of course, it didn't have one). Aptly named La Courtisane, it looked more like a place that would rent by the hour, than by the night. We decided to transfer to another property and were nearly forced to leave the night before our other reservation due to a booking error. It was truly turning into the Trauma Tour.

Even the clouds kept lingering much longer than originally forecasted. Maybe this trip wasn't meant to be. I was done and started researching cheap flights home. But I had already come this far physically and mentally. I couldn't give up now. I should have known that anything remotely associated with him, even this cathartic exercise, was bound to result in some sort of drama.

A cloudy day at the Louvre

I knew experiencing the city in person would add a whole dimension to how he must have lived life. Through conversations with others whom he had met in Paris, I had assembled how he spent most days. Several women who contacted me told me he would circle the area around the Louvre and the adjacent Tuileries Gardens. These places are busy, teeming with tourists, and offer the best odds for English-speaking females. There, he could chat up somebody and become fast friends, taking advantage of the city's romance. It's also full of scammers, so I can see how he effortlessly blended in.

I understood why he left for Paris, because he had a girlfriend there at the time, but not why he stayed for three decades. Now it was clear. Paris made sense for him and who he was. Like the time he stole an ice cream sandwich from a pharmacy after our rooftop encounter. I am sure he dined and dashed frequently at the abundant outdoor cafes. The open markets and stores with food displays outside made free snacks easily accessible. It's easy to get lost in the crowd in its dense, winding streets and alleyways. It reminded me of a quote from one of his letters:

"I like the invisibility a very large city provides. Probably because I feel I have so much to hide."

While walking the streets, I saw this business with a variation on his name. It's sort of tragic that someone so intelligent, charming, and articulate, armed with an Ivy League degree, chose not to channel that into something productive. As several stated, they weren't sure he ever held a job.

A Paris business bearing a variation of his namesake

But like my relationship with him, I recovered from the aftermath, found clarity, and a nicer place to stay within St. Germain de Pres that was convenient and more spacious. The clouds lifted, and the sun came out long enough to enjoy a couple of beautiful days and romantic sunsets (with someone who loves me with all of his heart).

Paris sunset on the Seine

Am I glad I went? Yes. I have spent years trying to get into his head while getting him out of mine. And I feel I got what I needed. Would I go back? Probably not. But it was great to have this opportunity for reflection and context.

Walking on the Seine in Paris

Paris is out of my system, and I've come to terms with the fact that Chris will always be part of my story, but at a size I can live with.

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