Amoureux partie

Terminal 2. Hall E. 9:15 a.m. We embraced.

As I held his cheek close to my ear I could feel warmth. Warmth from his heart. Out-pouring love. Wishing good luck on my first day of school tomorrow. Hoping for a speedy recovery from my cold. Loving me to my core.

I didn’t want to pull away. I didn’t want to see his eyes again, because I knew it would be my last opportunity for some time. I told him that I loved him. I warned him of flying safely. And made him promise to call the moment he lands.

Then we stepped back from each other’s arms – the place that has brought comfort, peace, joy, congratulations, love, and laugher. Tears in both our eyes, we kissed. Said I love you, one last time.

We turned our backs to each other and walked in opposite directions. James through airport security. I toward the train for Paris. I welled inside. Yearning for him.

I turned down the hall for the train to find myself alone.

This is so strange, I whispered to myself. CDG is one of the busiest airports in the world and there I was utterly alone – in the dark.

I sat down. And exploded with tears.

I have never felt so vacant and so lonely in my life. Time in the U.S. was 1 a.m. – too early to call my parents, or a friend. I've yet to meet any friends in Paris.

Alone. With my heart aflame of passion. I cried. Not a gentle sob, but a verbal wail.

I knew that this day and this moment was coming. I just didn’t know how terribly hard it was going to be. The laws of happiness were not clear to me at this moment. I was fulfilling my life-long dream, yet I was so unhappy. Confusing my heart.

Snot was already stuffing my nose from the cold – by now I was unable to control the flow. I rushed for the bathroom.

After settling my nose down and catching a breath I looked up in the mirror. I saw comfort. I saw the excitement about starting Le Cordon Bleu tomorrow. I saw the, “Hurrahs,” and the, “Go get ‘em’s,” from my friends and family. I saw my husband full of pride for me. And I saw myself. I saw the strong, confident, life-living soul of mine. I wailed one more time – part sadness and part lion’s roar.

I made no attempt of wiping my face dry. I turned toward the door. Exited the bathroom. Bought my ticket. And waited for the next train to Paris. The -3 Celsius (26.6 Fahrenheit) wind that ripped through the platform was quite sobering.

I sobbed quietly to myself here and there on my hour, fifteen minute ride home. When I reached the Dupleix Métro stop I was composed and ready to move forward full steam ahead. I headed to the bank - practicing French in my head - ready to wire some money to my landlord.

I cry as I write to you today. Tears full of every emotion. Happiness about living my dream. Sadness for being alone. Frustration for my broken French. Anger for my sickness. Relief for getting myself here. Anxiety for tomorrow. Comfort from you. Peace from within.

"You feel pains of all sorts when you are alive, but then, it is better than to be dead."
Tunde Alan-Taiwo