Food for Thought

Today I found myself sitting outside the Denfert-Rochereau RER station waiting for my friend Thomas. As I sat there on the bench absorbing my rare yet needed dosage of vitamin D, a man approached me and asked if I had a cigarette. I politely declined, and as I watched him walk away I noticed that I did not make eye contact with him. It was almost as if I couldn`t even be bothered to look up at the person posing the question. It then dawned on me that in Paris I never look people directly in the eye (apart from the semi-frequent eye-tag game played in the metro or where-have-you). I tried to remember if I`ve always been like that - if I`ve always been one so reserved to avoid brief moments of prolonged eye contact. The thought itself is laughable yet it still struck an uneasy chord.

I knew that living abroad for a year would incur inevitable changes in my person but it never occurred to me how permanent some of those changes might be. After nearly 20 years of forming habits and developing little daily rituals it would seem as though I have myself pretty figured out. But if in 6 months I`m already transforming into an antisocial hermit what irreversible damage will an entire year do ? It`s interesting to see how such a significant life style change is dividing my life quite literally into "now" and "then." There`s "before Paris," and there`s "Paris." Paris I feel will always be the transitive marker in my life where I gave up some of my youthful thinking and meandered my way into becoming a real life adult. As spontaneous as an action that should be, a part of me feels as though I`m choosing to change and I`m choosing to grow up. Though slight personality changes can be overlooked and even enhance a person, growing up is the one thing that cannot be undone. I will never be that anxious over-excited eager-to-see-the-world girl I once was before coming to Paris. I will never again be the crazy exuberant sorority girl out-dressing everyone at every event. And I will definitely never again be the outspoken pink haired punk-rock cheerleader I was in high school. So my question is, what comes after Paris ? Is it even possible to walk back into the life of a person who no longer exists ? Moreover, does that life continue even after said person has gone ?

The time is quickly approaching where I have to decide how to spend my next couple of years. Thought provoking situations such as this lead to exasperating thoughts leaving me a bit pensive at best. I feel the past and the present pulling at me from both ends. It`s only a matter of figuring out which of them will bring me to the future.