There are cities you visit, and there are cities that absorb you. Paris is the latter. It is a place that exists in the collective imagination as much as it does in reality—romanticized, immortalized, stamped into postcards and film reels. Yet, no amount of expectation fully prepares you for its first embrace, the way it shifts from fable to something tactile, something lived. I arrived, weary from the long haul of travel, carrying the weight of distance, time zones crossed, and disrupted sleep. And yet, as the taxi moved through the city's arteries, the fatigue gave way to something else: a recognition, as if I had been here before, in a dream or another life.