Imagine. You are in Paris, the most artistic city in the world about to hike up the hindering staircase of the Eiffel Tower to witness one of the most majestic and sonorous sites ever to be seen by man. There is nothing like standing on top of the Eiffel Tower, watching the sun set over the most romantic city in the world, holding hands with the first person I’ve ever said “I love you” to and the first person I’ve ever cared about more than myself.
That night, I decided to get away from the “guys” and venture out into Paris with her. Kate is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen – the bluest and brightest eyes, the biggest smile, always laughing, and always happy. Once she starts to laugh it usually lasts awhile, and before you know it, it starts to rub off and I’m laughing right along with her. She’s about five foot, seven with brown hair and rosy cheeks, a perfect height because I really don’t have to bend down at all. Her teeth aren’t perfect, but there’s something about them that I love… maybe the fact that they aren’t perfect. It’s a unique quality that acts almost as an aphrodisiac. But her looks aren’t what make her perfect; it’s everything else on the inside that makes people fall in love with her. She brings out the best in me, is fun and makes everyone around her smile, and not only does she care about other people, but most of the time, she puts those other people ahead of her own personal needs and wants. She is perfect in most peoples’ eyes, and even though I’m one of the few to see her flaws, they are smaller than the eye can see when it compares to everything else. So, imagine the excitement and anticipation that pulsed through my veins as I thought of the prospect of holding hands with perfection at one of the most historic and romantic places on the earth.
The subway train pulsed with energy as a Parisian played American songs to enhance our experience and attempt to earn some of our money. Of course, we just sang along and danced with the scent of rum and wine rolling from our tongues as we belted out the words in jubilation having the time of our lives. The subway adjusted according to the design of the city, sometimes jutting out of the ground to traverse above the streets and giving us glimpses of the already setting sun. On the inside though, it was bland and boring with the cheapest equipment and utilities to fulfill the car’s duties. And the only colors were those on the map – blues, reds, yellows, and greens – signifying the different subway lines of the city that lie above the entry doors and windows. My heart raced in anticipation, not only for the fact of seeing the Eiffel Tower, but also for the possibility (if the crowd permitted) of climbing to the top of it.
We arrived just as the sun was setting, and the sky began to turn shades of pink and purple and red and orange. But the surprising element was the number of people walking around selling souvenirs and memorabilia. As we walked through the surrounding gardens, venders flocked to us trying to hand us a bottle of wine or souvenir, and we politely said no thanks and kept moving along. Nothing could dampen our spirits as we approached the mass of people that crowded around each leg of the tower… waiting to climb it.
There were a few other girls that tagged along and came with us, and when we arrived at the tower they were already complaining about the lines being too long, and not even wanting to go up. But I told her that we were going because I knew that when we made it to the top, it was going to be one of those moments that neither of us would ever forget.
And so we waited, but surprisingly, the wait only lasted about twenty minutes before we started the climb. Nothing could compare. The rigorous climb was daunting, but as the allure increased and we saw more of the city, it gave us the motivation to keep trudging up those stairs.
Twilight waned, as I stood 1,986 feet in the air watching the most eccentric sky as dozens of different emotion filled my lungs and veins and took my breath away. This was Europe, and this is what I came here to see. The city was lit up almost as if it were Christmas; lights sparkled on every building and every corner as far as the eye could see. The sky glistened in the most dazzling sunset array as majestic purples and soft pinks streaked across the sky converging and mixing with one another, like a masterful artist painting with the perfect touch and the perfect colors to create that picturesque masterpiece. The whole city was visible from the top, and I could pick out certain monuments that towered above the surrounding residential districts and busy city-streets, signifying a past and a culture that still lives on today.
But what I loved most about being on top of history and seeing the perfection and beauty in the sky and the city was the perfection and beauty that stood right next to me. She made that moment perfect as I held her hand in a timeless fashion, where nothing mattered but the moment and what we made of it. Yes, the breathtaking views and the monumental sensation of where I was standing was magnificent and astounding, but what made that moment exemplary was watching the sun set over the city of love and romance, as I told her that I loved her. She responded, but this was only the second time I had ever said it to her, which cemented this moment even more into the grounds of crème de la crème. We don’t ever show public affection, but this was different and something special… so we did. We held hands the whole way up, kissed in public, took lots of pictures, and shared an experience that will forever be embedded in my mind – and especially in my heart – as one of the best moments in my life