I saw the Eiffel Tower from the airplane. It stood taller then the buildings and cars, that glistened like diamonds.

As I admired it, the woman next to me blew wet snot into a series of tissues. And I heard my Dad’s voice in my head.

“Isis, wherever you go, there you are.”

7 years ago, I told a Parisian lover I was traveling the world to collect pieces of myself. He laughed, and told me I should be able to do that from my country. But for our planned one-night stand, he cooked us a beautiful dinner, we talked with passion, and he sang me to sleep in French.

I learned from that.

Every sexual experience should be a full meal.

Months later, I danced Tango in my tiny flat in Paris. My clothes literally fell off. And we kept dancing.

I learned that day too. That there were many ways to make love.

Places hold up a sliver of mirror to who we are.
So we can see ourselves from different angles.
In different lighting.

I don’t travel because it’s glamorous.

It’s not.

I travel to know what’s possible.