You can see where that extra 3,500 is coming from. And guess what. It’s worth every damn bite.

I’m wishing I had some extra pain au chocolat on hand right now … eating and writing go so well together.

Tonight, Maman and I had moment. Well, it was more like I was having a moment and then she wanted to know, “what in God’s name was wrong” with me. Because I actually started to cry.

One minute I’m sitting on the couch fine, and the next, I’m crying.

What the fuck, right?

It just hit me. It being life — my life, the future of my life — hell, life in general. I’ve already mentioned how important this trip was for me to make happen, because I didn’t know where, a year from now, I’d be.

The enormity of that hit me full force tonight, as I was on the couch, plotting out tomorrow’s Parisian adventure. In case you’re wondering just what that’s going to be {and even if you’re not, I’m going to tell you} : La Mosquée. Not just any mosque {so up my alley!!}, but a spa mosque! Who knew. Mosque and spa. Just the kind of thing I’m all over.

It’s odd how things hit you, isn’t it? And I can’t even tell you what spurred it. I mean, I was just sitting there, mentally picturing me getting all mosqued out and next thing I know, I’m thinking, “I’ll never have this again.”

And the tears came.

Not a lot of tears. It’s not like I was bawling my eyes out and having a meltdown or anything along those dramatic lines. But yes, there were tears.

Maman immediately began to reassure me that of course “this” {which refers to trips} will happen again. Well, duh. That’s obvious. We can’t not go places. It’s what we do.

But this is the last trip, where for an entire month, it’s just us. Where I don’t have a husband and the possibility of a baby on the way, or maybe an actual living, breathing being that I’m responsible for. Where I can do whatever the hell I want, when I want to. Where there’s no having to concern myself about someone else.

People, it scares me. I am afraid.

Afraid that I won’t be good {though I know I will}. Afraid that I’ll miss this — this freedom. And I don’t mean freedom here as freedom of being single, I mean it as having my days as my own. My world revolving around just me and The BF.

I guess it’s more the baby thing that scares me. The whole having to be responsible for another living, breathing being part. Yeah. That’s a pretty god damn big thing.

It scares me, but I want it, and I know I’ll be good at that, too. I know when it happens, everything will be fine. But in the meantime … my thoughts get the best of me. Tolle, I’m sorry — I’m completely not in the moment here.

He’d probably tell me to put my Ego in check.

Ego, consider yourself in official check.

The thing of it all is : I know. Yet, I forget.

I momentarily get sucked into the black hole of forgetfulness. It’s the divine dichotomy at play. Don’t we consistently move to and from these points daily? The knowing to not knowing, back to remembering.

It’s true that Maman and I will never have this again. How could we? We’ve never, nor you or anyone, has ever repeated a previous experience word for word or by the book. It’s just not possible. Plus it would defeat what life is — moving forward, evolving, growing, and so forth.

So I started to think a new thought … of all the other millions of new experiences that are coming to me. Of what our future trips will be … so much new to savor, so much more goodness that just keeps on coming, in new ways.

And I’ll take it all in stride. I’ll keep forgetting at times. I’ll feel afraid, and I’ll tell you. Because when I tell you, I can see it for the illusion that it is, and the remembering sets back in.

Till I might forget again and freak out and worry that I’ll never be able again to take off for a month. Till I remember that yes, it just might be three or four months the next time. It’s all possible. That’s what I keep telling myself. In the realm of the relative, all possibilities are possible.

I can’t really take credit for that. I think I’m combining some yogi and some other metaphysical teachings together. I need to work on coming up with bad ass one liners like that.

So, here’s to savoring … savoring the all of it. From fear to certainty, love to hate, forgetting to remembering. It’s all part of the same goodness.