Lyon, middle of the night. November, 13–November, 14 2015.

I do not know how to start a love letter, as everything is unfolding in Paris, only a few hours away from my comforting bed. But as my heart grows heavier and heavier, I decided it was the best moment to show some love—if not out of respect, then out of necessity. Talking about it, denouncing people and pointing fingers will not make any difference but love will. So here it is, an attempted love letter to my country that I love so dearly; and to the rest of the world who knows how to be united when needed. We’re all humans and, as cliché as it may seem, we’re all in this together. I am French, but I’m also a citizen of the world. And tonight just proved it.

I cried and got desperate and sent some worried messages to friends. I RTed, turned the TV on and followed everything step by step. It was the normal thing to do. But when you hear things such as, “More than 100 people were killed,” you don’t actually realize what that means. Each person had a family. And each person was loved dearly. And you know what? I don’t want to stay here, sitting on my butt, doing nothing apart from being shocked. I want to live and love, and make a little difference around me.

I’m proud to be French. I always will be. We have our problems, and we can be rude and not really welcoming at times but we are united. We are all together. And we know how to fight and how to love. We don’t need more than that.

So I will write about it, send messages, spend time with my relatives and tell them what they mean to me in all time. This is not my love letter, my entire life’s going to be my love letter. All of our lives need to be love letters. So please, stop asking yourselves which nationalities or religion or whatever the killers were. That’s not the thing that matters the most. What matters is your life, and how you’re going to deal with that. So I ask you…come be a love letter with me. Talk, call, hug, text, live freely and happily. Spend some quality time with people. Look at their qualities. Reach out instead of pointing your finger. Because let’s be real: the world needs more love letters. The world needs you.

Let’s not wait for another massacre to make us stand. As for this situation? Well, I’ll keep mourning, and respecting…and loving everyone. That’s the only way to beat it.

Yours truly,

Stephanie

—By Stephanie C., 20, Lyon, France