I swear, that archive of photos of mine – it’s the gift that just keeps on giving. Every time I think I’ve finally made my way through it, I unearth something else that sends me spiraling into sentimentality. These two photos, for example, were taken a couple of years ago during a weekend road trip up to Vegas – the city I grew up in and the one I’ll always consider home. When I lived there, I’d drive past the Strip every day on the way to and from home, school and work without batting an eye, totally immune to its glittering facades.
Now, as a tourist, I stay at hotels when I visit just like everyone else and sometimes get to enjoy views like this – tiny faux Paris through a looking glass. Fast forward a couple of years for a shift in perspective and find me in Paris-the-real-thing, staring up in awe at the grandeur of the actual Eiffel Tower, illuminated by thousands of dancing lights. That definitive moment is when H decided to act on months of secret planning, pulled out the ring he’d been hiding/nervously carrying/worried he’d lost, and asked me to marry him. Best day ever.