The Kissing Booth: Adult Edition

Postcards In Paris

There was a time when I couldn't imagine myself loving anyone but Noah Flynn.

That's part of the reason why I went to Paris. I wanted to experience a brand-new world; a spotless world completely untouched by him. That way I wouldn't be tempted to search for him everywhere I went.

"Bye, Elle! Have a good time!" Lee waved at me from the gate, alongside my father and brother. I boarded the plane, traveling overseas for the first time ever. It was also my first trip alone, and let me tell you, nothing grows you up like being thrust into a new and strange environment with literally no one around to help you. But that's how I liked it- I wasn't doing so well these past couple of years and I wanted to get to know myself. Really get to know myself. And I know that sounds like a cheesy line but honestly, it's true. I came back a totally different person, and I've been her ever since.

But it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. One the about heartbreak- that stuff follows you.... even in Paris. I learned that the hard way. Paris was so beautiful, full of these gorgeous buildings and streets everywhere. I became so greedy those first few days I was there. I wanted to see everything, to soak it all in like a never-ending sponge. But I slowly realized that was simply impossible. I could see all I could, and then it flow through me like water. Instead of a sponge, I morphed into a bowl which was filled then emptied. It never felt like I was holding onto anything, but instead each entry left an impression on me. I could let it change me, alter who I am, without my clinging onto it. And I guess at some point, I realized I could do the same with people.

The hardest day I can remember was when I first arrived in France. I loved all the attractions so much, I wanted to share them with others. I eagerly bought a postcard at the Louvre and found a café near Shakespeare And Company to write on it. I purchased it without anyone in particular in mind to send it to. I suppose it would be for Lee; he'd appreciate it. I turned the card over and blanked for a moment, though I still knew I'd write it for Lee. My eyes widened however, as I glanced from Notre Dame down to see that my hand had scribbled a different name instead. Dear Noah.....

And so, from then on, I got into the habit of buying Noah postcards everywhere of interest I went. I'd always find somewhere remote and scenic to write on them. I always addressed them to Noah, but I never put down his actual address; I didn't know it anymore anyway. In place, I'd use the space to write even more, knowing he'd never read it. That didn't seem to matter- at least at first. It just felt like I was including him in all this beauty indirectly; there was so much here I wanted to show him....

I wrote and wrote, and I probably finished over twenty postcards. I told him about everything. What I was up to, how I was doing, what I'd seen and where I went that day- it went on and on. But after like the twentieth one, something strange came over me. There was a picture of Noah and his new girlfriend on Lee's facebook page; he'd brought her home for Thanksgiving that year. Heh, Thanksgiving- good memories there. But it just confirmed what I already knew: Noah had moved on, and I should do the same. Everyone told me so..... But I couldn't bring myself to let the flame die. I think a part of me was afraid that once it was out, it would be out for good, and... and I didn't want that. I still remembered..... I remembered how good it felt, loving Noah. It felt so good to love him; he was so easy to love. That detail, I couldn't forget.

But life must go on. For me, it happened one cool evening in late fall. The leaves had turned colour, and most had already fallen to the ground. It used to be an idyllic setting for writing postcards, but that too was fading. Still, I found a serene park bench to sit on. It was in the Champ de Mars; the same park where the Eiffel Tower was. I could see it from where I was sitting; it was at the other end of the way. Pretty romantic setting, or it should have been.