Heaven...I'm in heaven

Vous me manquez, Paris!

Yes, I miss Paris. I miss being in love. But I decided to get over it. Move on. Disassociate the whole love affair with the city. That is why those of you following my blog are just NOT going to hear about it anymore. It is too painful to think about everyday. I need to go to other cities and other realms for a while before I have the heart to return to Paris. I hope that is okay with you all...

My mood about it all can be encapsulated in one of my favorite Elizabeth Bishop poems. If you want, you can read it here. I don't want it all to sound so tragic, but sometimes it kind of feels that way. And before you get too frustrated with my sensitivity, remember, everyone is entitled to their feelings. And how can I tell my heart to stop if it doesn't want to? So I will go back to ignoring it.
Instead, I will talk about my absolute favorite spot in Paris: Sacré-Cœur. The picture above is my sister and me, visiting the spectacular spot together.

There is nothing I loved better than to walk up those steps during EVERY visit to Paris. It made me feel like I was ascending toward something better, toward a heaven that did not seem so beyond me, here on Earth.
Though you have to walk through a pretty questionable neighborhood (you have to watch for pickpockets), and depending on how fit you are, it may be your personal hell climbing up the hills and up the steps to get to the Basilica, you will not be disappointed.

So, if you, dear reader, hunger for another romance, I will give it to you, though with a little alteration. Here is my love story with Sacré-Cœur (note: for lack of a better pronoun, I have substitutde "it" for "her" as do the French with the pronoun "elle." I am fully aware of the undertones of this, but you as my reader must try to ignore it, or not.)
My dearest Sacré-Cœur,

I fell in love with you at first sight, though I already had seen other more elaborately ornate edifices and churches. You struck some chord in me that I cannot describe, and still capture me when I think of you. The quiet simplicity you displayed, in comparison to Notre Dame, seemed to beckon to me. You are unaware. You do not know your beauty in your still white innocence and only wait patiently for the thousands that come into your doors each day, welcoming the guests with peaceful song.


There are no come hither looks from you, but only a smile with your face up, looking honestly into the sun, casting the sun's light through the windows into your dome. You only see truth up there in the sky, resting on the clouds, floating perfectly as if holding hands with some God that whispers in your ear.

I salute you, and hold your memory dear in my heart. Until next time.

Bonsoir, mon amour.
Isn't that romantic? haha. Yes, I am a hopeless romantic, but I have decided to use my energies toward something else. And I don't mean to diminish the beauty of love at this time. I only want to bring light to the beauty in other things, like the creation of this glorious building as a place to worship something higher than ourselves, outside the human realm, and supposedly more beautiful that anything on Earth. Absolute Love and Truth. Isn't it a beautiful idea?
The view of Paris from the top of the Sacré-Cœur on top, and Notre Dame on the bottom.

Comparing the two above, many people will disagree with me and feel more inclined to like the intricacy and extravagant beauty of Notre Dame. Though I cannot argue with the aesthetic perfection of Notre Dame, Sacre Coeur is my personal preference.