There was something about being in Paris with Jenny. It wasn’t just the romance, it wasn’t like that. It was more about her, the way she came alive, she was vibrant and it felt like she had reached a higher level of contentment within herself. She talked about her work and how she was finding a new level with it and how things she had locked away seemed to be coming to the fore. She told me that before her mother died she had encouraged her to pursue her artistic dream. Her father had implied that she was wasting her time going along that path and she admitted that sometimes, she felt as though possibly he was right. I wanted to tell her to shut up. I told her I was glad she hadn’t listened to her father. She held my hand. We were at a part of the bridge by the Seine where there were thousands of locks attached to it, each one representing two people, one relationship one lock. I liked the idea of being locked together in love. Jenny suggested that we buy a lock of our own and attach it to the bridge to represent our love and in that moment I was beyond happy.

We went to the Louvre one afternoon and it was cool and airy but not cold like outside and Jenny couldn’t get enough of the place. After a while I suggested that we take a break, there was only so much art you could absorb, but she wouldn’t listen, she wanted to keep going, so I told her I would wait for her outside. There was a bar there with outdoor heaters. I ordered a crisp beer. Even though the demi was expensive it tasted so good, clean and delicious. There was only so much art I could take in one day. I started to read a bit of Orlando because I had brought it along with me but I found it hard to concentrate so I watched other tourists. When Jenny finally re-emerged I listened to her with happiness as she told me how she felt completely illuminated and I thought how she was lighting up my life.