Paradise

Her: You must go to paradise for a week.
Me: Does paradise exist?
Her: Yes, it does. I've been there!
Me: Where is it?
Her: All over. Hawaii; The Bahamas; some remote location in Paris; a remote location in New York; in my dreams; Notting Hill; Some chateau in England where Pride and Prejudice was filmed; in my eyes when I look at parts of New York and they remind me of what I imagine it used to look like. It's in music; in someone else's dreams; in my parents' eyes; in the eyes of my loved ones. Paradise is in many places if you can feel it in your heart.

I pause and think about that and change around the phrasing.
Paradise is a place in your heart.

She continues: Paradise is wherever those meaningful tears come from, those doubtful sighs, those empty nights, and those warm hugs. Paradise is in my father's eyes when he looks at me because I am his angel. So I'm sure you know where paradise is.

I still think back, though.
Paradise is a place in your heart.

It continues around up in my head.
Paradise is a place in your heart.

I don't know if I can afford a week at once there, but I've re-found Paradise.