Two Americans in Paris

Everyone who knows her loves her.

But they don't know her like I do.

Knowing her is like being the sole possessor of an unspeakably wonderful secret.

Falling in love with her was and is likened unto being sent on a long journey alone to some far-flung exotic locale; a place you've never been before, a place where you don't know anyone. . .

Falling in love with her is arriving, deplaning uncertainly, walking lonely up the breezeway,

and catching a glimpse of a familiar face.

But not just a familiar face;

more, a face that holds all your dreams within her smile,

happiness in her eyes,

home in her arms.

The past seven years I've spent in Paris with the love of my life,

always at holiday,

always at home,

falling, deeper and deeper

Happy Anniversary, Devan

Love, Nathan