So yesterday I took my daughter on our first holiday abroad together, just us two. For me this is a big step and perhaps filled with some past demons and a few bitter sweet memories. I had never booked a holiday myself before. I was just never really allowed. Okay so the short trip to Rome happened in February with ‘the one’ but it didn’t feel like that counted as a holiday really, it was more a short quick trip that could have been to anywhere. This felt different, perhaps it’s the amount of money, the package holiday thing, the long flight etc. But this feels real and scarily totally my responsibility.
I opted to take the coach to the airport, which was a good plan because one of my tyres on the car blew out in the morning of our departure as I was driving back from the shop. I did my best not to decide we were doomed. We packed, got the taxi to the coach station, got there in one piece, I discover I’ve left my vape somewhere, guess today is the day I’m giving up then!?!
We get through check in, get upgraded for free which is pretty awesome, get through security in record time because me and my daughter are good at the minimal fuss travel game and get a burger before getting on the plane. We made it!
Take off happens, I’m always nervous about take off so I shove my headphones in and listen to some cheerful ska. Take off is actually pretty awesome! Okay so today we’re in a 787 Dreamliner, we’ve been upgraded, and we’re eating chips on the plane. This ain’t bad.
As I watch the sun setting through the window across the Atlantic I can’t help but start to think. The last time I was on a plane with my daughter we were miserable, I remember being recognised at the airport by a colleague who had asked if I was okay when my ex wasn’t looking, I had said yeah sure but actually no I wasn’t, it had been the worst holiday of my life. And the day after initially what I thought was the worst day of my life, he split up with me over something trivial at the time but really that was just the turning point so I could find my best days.
The last time I was on a plane the one had just broken up with me after telling me I was the only girl for him, his Uturn somehow happened in seconds and resulted in a tearful plane journey and me then having to drive all the way back from Stanstead, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him to make his own way home. Perhaps I should have…
So today has a few mixed emotions a reminder that the last two holidays I had ended in disaster. A reminder that I perhaps trust a little too easily. But then I wouldn’t want to be any different and would rather invite good feelings than expect bad ones. A reminder that so far life is full of disappointments and you somehow just have to keep on smiling. Perhaps the new one who makes me forget with change that. His Tarot readings are positive, but I’m still not 100% ready to fully trust what I’m told. Perhaps he isn’t either which is why we’ll continue to skirt around that subject until someobody cracks. I’m in two minds about that subject. The one told me he loved me after just 2 days, but I felt it, it was strong, I’m still not really sure if it was love at all. The Stand In had rules around love, you must not mention it for 2 months. This just took away any impulsiveness for me and left me wondering if on the exact 2 months he planned to tell me, well where was the spontaneity in that? And what happened if he didn’t? This sent me into a spiral of total confusion as to what the hell I wanted and fell out of love pretty quickly as the rules got bigger and seemingly more nonesensical.
This one right now, hell well I’m confused. Scared to the point of running away but not quite scared enough to run. Because the feelings were instant, I don’t know what hit me and they grew that first night, to the point that whilst we were laying together the words nearly slipped out…
Him… well I dunno… but he’s made a pretty big effort so far. And the night when he was adorably drunk, words slipped out that I’ll wait till he’s sober to see if he repeats them again. But I’m taking the sign that he keeps kissing me as a good thing. And he constantly tells me he thinks I’m hot. And I think he’s hot too.
I guess the fear that hit me on the plane today wasn’t my usual fear of flying, just the fear of getting hurt badly again. Either hating myself for having to end it for the sake of my sanity or worse still being rejected again especially like the last time when he had no good reason other than he was just too lazy to have a real relationship.
I don’t think this new guy is either, we’ll see, guess it’s down the the universe to help this story work.
But in the mean time, me and my daughter are off for a lovely holiday in the sun, a well earned rest from the madness of day to day life, a chance to bond as mum and daughter and just be ourselves. I always remind myself how lucky I am to have such a great daughter. We’re sisterly close which sometimes has its problems with instilling boundaries but I wouldn’t have it any other way. So this week we’re taking Morocco by storm with my red hair and her blue hair. I have my best friend, a good book and a bikini and that’s all I’m gonna need…