Paris me manque. I write in my book. Dreams of France, past journeys and new adventures. Scanning the pages of words written so long ago. Collected memories of old love made new again. Have I not sought you out again? Looked to you for advice and wisdom? Wanting to hold your hand and have new experiences with you. The French will embrace these memories as will men and women the world over. That your opinions haven’t changed. This is what I hope. My old age may be made young again, through both our love and Paris.