preciousparis_
...for those not as obsessed with social media as I am)
and pretend to be a blogger
Taking a deep breath and reminding myself of everything I am, I pull open the grand glass door, walk confidently to the lift and push the 'up' button.
It's going to be perfect.
It's going to be everything I want it to be
I say these things over and over in my head. I'm willing the universe to listen and make it so. After four years (and ten months and five days), isn't it about time?
I step into the lift, and take one last look at myself in the mirror, smile serenely at my reflection without fretting over my make-up caking or my hair looking like a scarecrow.
This is it.
The doors open with a shrill ping, and it takes me a second to adjust to what I can see.
Instead of being packed full of people, the glamorous blue-lit bar, leading out on to a stylish restaurant area on the patio, is almost empty.
The sight that meets my eyes takes my breath away.
Tiny white tea lights in mottled silver votives run from the doors of the lift, through the indoor bar and out on to the terrace, making a twinkling path for me to walk down. Next to the doors at the end of the candlelit path is a waiter ready to take me to the one occupied table, where he stands smiling at me with one arm outstretched in welcome.
Strings of golden fairy lights hang from every railing
