When most people think of Paris, they think about romance and romantic cliches.

I am sure you’ve seen billions of inspirational Paris-photos online.

He looks like he just walked straight out of a perfume-ad and he smells like a mix of cologne (maybe ) and cigarettes. Yes, the macaroons, the champagne, the wine, the 5 star hotels, the Eiffel Tower, it’s all there. Unless you’re aiming for the aristocrats, of course.

He’ll take you to all his favorite bars and restaurants in the city, introduce you to the best wines you’ll ever drink, and desserts so delicious you’ll never want to eat anything else again in your life. This image of Paris is the city as it’s portrayed by Hollywood and novelists. But that’s a whole different planet than the one the average Jane such as myself (and probably you) live on.

Even if I was single, I had zero interest in this older man.

I simply loved him the way one loves pizza or a Jimmy Stewart movie.

Just in case meeting a sexy Frenchie who’ll knock your socks off wasn’t motivation enough.To which he responded that Americans were careless with the word "love" and used it too frequently.He also brought up how he was hurt by the way I occasionally thanked servers at restaurants with "Thank you, love," as I would say to a friend who passed me the salt at the dinner table.But there I was, on our wedding night, consoling my husband and reassuring him that I didn't have any interest in his brother-in-law."I love him like that Bon Iver song I can't stop playing," I said.I was up all night and I spent the first couple of days pretty discombobulated.I spent 12 hours sleeping, but now I’m back on track.