On the road again

Last night as I was laying in bed, I suddenly felt overcome with joy. For the first time in a long time, possibly even since I came to France, I felt happy. To clarify that a bit, I was always happy with my relationship with Fab, but I never felt happy myself. I felt consistently on edge and on guard. Under pressure to fit in and to not do or say anything strange, to not always be "that foreign girl". I always used to joke about how France treated foreigners like horses - it just kept beating them down and beating them down until they broke and were submissive, but in all honesty, that's where I was heading.

Here in Paris though, there are so many other foreigners that I don't have to worry about that any more, and it's really freeing. I don't have to worry about sticking out. No one looks twice at me for being tall or blond or for having an accent. I can be myself again. It's the same feeling I always got going back to the US, like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. But after being in such a negative environment for so long, part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop, like "When is it all going to come crashing down?". I keep waiting to feel sad or depressed or upset about what's happened, but I just don't. With the exception of one minor freak-out my first night here (that involved me getting locked out of my apt and panicking and thinking "WTF are you doing in Paris? You don't know anyone here!!"), things have been really good. I'm slowly (oh so slowly) getting a feel for the city, my work is going well and I'm managing to find ways to occupy my time. What more can a girl ask for?