A 4 Day Weekend in Paris

I know, obviously it is so cliche that my first encounter with the magical force some people call 'love' happened in the 'City of Love'. But, you see, i have a heavy aversion for that city. It is the city where my mother was born and buried, it is also the city where my father met this 21 year old 'woman' who soon enough became his girlfriend and now my soon-to-be step-mother. We came to Paris so my father could ask permission for her hand, then, we would fly to her favorite city where my father would get down on one knee and ask this brat to marry him. And i know that you're thinking "oh darling you should be filled with joy for your father", but i'm really not. This exasperating little whore has been in our lives for quite some time because her dead mother was the best friend of my dead mother. We were basically forced to grow up together, she is literally only 4 years older than i am. So the least i can say is that this is the city that i have hated for the past 2 years, and if you were wondering how my mother died i guess it wouldn't come as a shock that her family was partially responsible.