For now, I see it like this:
Paris is my wife. I am loyal to her because I love her dearly and deeply. I know her. I chose her. She is my soul. She is what I call home.
Italy is my mistress. I fantasise about her regularly and I want to see her whenever I can. She is the fire and the passion that rages inside of me. I’m in love with her. She makes me a better person. Yet, I don’t know if I can leave Paris.
Since my recent trip to Italy, I realised something …… I’m caught between two loves.