to the next venture

“What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? It's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.”

-Jack Kerouac

Making the decision to go to Paris was not an easy one—ludicrous, right? Who wouldn’t want to go spend a year abroad, in Paris nonetheless? But it was not that simple; it was entirely last minute. One evening in late April, maybe early May, Maria and I were having our usual dinner of cereal and chocolate chip cookies, wondering how the year had escaped so quickly. Our first two semesters at NYU were soon to be over, and it seemed as though I was still waiting for them to begin. Like many nights before, we were spending that one planning our future—next week, next year, 10 years down the line.  We were restless.

Per usual, I was in a daze, deep in world of my thoughts, when she turned to me and asked, “Why don’t you just go to Paris”? Thirty minutes later, and two months too late, my application was submitted. A month later, I’m in. This was when the truth hit me. If I accept, I would be leaving the life I had spent the last two semesters building and the people I had spent the last two semesters loving for a city I had never known. Indicated by this blog, I decided to go.

People ask me if I am nervous—and they are almost always surprised when I respond with a quick “no”. The truth is, I am really not all that scared about being in Paris. I’m excited. What scares me is what I am leaving behind. As my departure date approaches, I begin to feel more and more this feeling that Jack Kerouac so eloquently speaks of.  As my friends speak of apartments on St. Marks and classes on Washington Square, I can see them becoming smaller and smaller. I feel the world vaulting me, the life I know beginning to say its goodbyes. 

But at the end of the day, it’s Paris, and its beautiful and mysterious and I just can’t wait. Sure, a part of me is heartbroken that I am willfully missing out on so many memories back in New York. But I, along with Mr. Kerouac, am leaning forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies, and though I am unsure of what I will find, I am ready to take on just about any Parisian curveball.