A Parisian ending

Who in their right mind goes to Paris to break up? I do apparently. This was the sad end to the defining relationship in my life, how did it come to this? Well, I don't know exactly, I can only reflect on the events leading up to Paris.

Back track three months to Morcone Beach, Elba, Italy. We had been apart, I felt like I was now in exile, I had been bundled off from Zurich, never to return. My departure from Zurich bahnoff had been one of resignation, it looked like the end for us.

Yet after a month or so into my exile, a change of heart; she jumped in her dark green Mitsubishi Colt and driven south from Zurich to Elba. The reunion though wasn't as I had expected, I was understandably defensive and somewhat aloof.

So here we were, sitting on the rockface surrounding Morcone Beach, tears streaming down her swollen eyes shaded by sun glasses; her words rang out "I can't marry you." While I pointed out that before she can reject a marriage proposal, it is universally accepted that first, I actually have to propose. While that principle was largely ignored by her, I fully understood the ramifications.

So we entered into this pact, I would return to Zurich with her and we would not discuss this moment ever again, we would go about our relationship as if each day was the last. We would enjoy each moment for what it was; the Swiss are wonderfully pragmatic and less wonderfully so, dogmatic.

That was however if she didn't have a change of heart, our relationship officially had an end date, if she wanted, she could just say so and our relationship could move to the next level. I had a ticket departing from Charles de Gaul and when I left, that would be it.

I kept my end of the bargain, there was no relationship hassles, no awkward questions, no stress. I went about our business as if nothing had happened, I was sad but I wasn't going to express that emotion in front of her.

So here we were at Paris Orly, her departure was a day before mine, we had silently caught a bus together to the airport. I walked her to the departure gate and that is when the verbal assault erupted, "How could I be so unfeeling as to show no emotion?" and "Why didn't I discuss this relationship with her?"

I was in disbelief, I did what she asked, her anger had now boiled over and then more disbelief, she was waiting for me to discuss with her our relationship, she didn't want this relationship to end after all.

I should have picked up before that, she pointed out that when we first arrived in Paris and stood on a bridge viewing the Eiffel Tower, she started to cry. Well yeah, I noticed her crying but I quickly dismissed it out of hand, she is difficult to understand, we were already in Paris by this stage and she had given no indication before that.

So in scenes reminiscent in my mind of the ending of Casablanca, she headed towards the boarding lounge and I was left to round up the usual suspects. We had however put on quite a show, this wasn't our first airport scene and I had the feeling this was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

So ok, there was no fog, no guns drawn and I didn't view the whole scene in black & white - I still think this scene was noteworthy. We were back on, that's all that mattered.

The day after, I headed off to Charles de Gaulle airport, I had to be back in Perth for the wedding of my brother and his soon to be wonderful wife on the banks of the Swan River at midday, there was plenty happening for me to take my mind off this unusual encounter.