Let me take you back to 1994, I was a mere 20, about 3 dress sizes smaller, I had no lines and I was getting ready to finish my first degree. It is Easter and I am so excited as I am flying to Gran Canaria on my own to meet my boyfriend of 5 years. He is already out there working and setting things up for us so that I can join him for a summer of love as soon as I finish my finals. No point in him staying in cold blighty just waiting for me to do my studying? right, so off he goes in February to work in a club as a bar man and share a place with a friend who lives out there.Now this is a man or should I say boy, lets call him Mr Bald Dreamer (there are numerous names I could choose for him but I like to keep my blog clean!) who has already done the dirty on me one or two times before and yes I stupidly took him back, who loves to flirt, who has lost all his money numerous times over, who lies habitually and is probably the most cheesy, friendly guy alive and I said 'yes, you go off and enjoy yourself and I will see you at Easter!' doh Can you guess where this is heading?
So I arrive in Gran Canaria and meet him (after carefully re-applying my lipstick and fluffing my hair) and I had that big reunion planned. You know the one you see on films, where the lovers run to each other and the man grabs the woman and swings her round. The world has stopped except for them and their love! No, reality check - we have a hug and a quick kiss and off we go to his car. He then informs me he has to work the whole 2 weeks I am there (every night!) but apparently that will be OK as we will have the days together, after he gets to bed at 4am that is....
I get back to his place and true to his form the first thing he wants to do is go to bed and it just is not anything special. That spark had gone, I was starting to get upset by now but holding it together that a true Brit. So off he goes to work that night and I stay in his apartment and watch some videos and read a book, apparently I can come to the bar and sit there like a sad sap if I fancy. After about 5 hours of being alone I go for the sad sap option and get all dressed up, determined to show him what he is missing. About to head off to the bar, I look at a pinboard in his room and there are loads of pictures of him with holiday makers, mostly girls but that is OK as that is the kind of guy he is. Then I see one and his arm is round her waist in exactly the way it used to be round my waist. I carefully study all the other pictures and yes they all show him with his arm around every other girls shoulders. So there she is, the new love! I am convinced of it. So convinced of it that the 20 year old me feels it is just to ramshackle his room and go through all his belongings including locked boxes. What do I find? tons of pictures and love letters from hundreds (I kid you not! and I have just had sex with this guy - stupid, stupid girl) of women and loads from this same woman who seems to think she is coming to spend the summer in Gran Canaria with him - hang on wasn't that my plan?
Now what would a rational person do at this point? Who knows, I can only tell you what I did. Off to the bar I went and befriended all the Spanish waiters, got very, very drunk and flirted lots. Then when he came round the bar for a kiss to do the manly territorial thing I slap him as hard as I can and throw a jug of beer over him. Can I hear you cheering? It felt really good, my heart had broken in half of course but I loved embarrassing him like that!
That was day 1 of a 2 week holiday, where we were supposed to share a room and bed! The rest of the holiday was a write off, his room mate came back to find me so pissed I was sat outside the apartments with my case packed convinced a taxi was coming to take me home. How different things would be nowadays if this happened, as a confident woman armed with a credit card I would just go home on the first plane but at age 20 with my first love in tatters I choose to stay and endure 2 weeks. My Mum tells me now of how agonising it was for her to hear me sob on the phone, hundreds of miles away.
The question I could never seem to get a decent answer to was why Mr Bald Dreamer just did not take the easy option and dump me over the phone, why make me come hundreds of miles and be all alone to deal with it.
The good news - it toughened me up, I did so much revision for my degree that I got a 2:1 and boy had I been slacking until that point, this lead to a good job which lead to me meeting my now husband in December of the same year, I also had the most fab tan and I became comfortable in my own company. So it was not all bad or ugly but it was definitely a defining moment in my life. It was the time I grew up most.
So where is Mr Bald Dreamer today? Who knows? I suppose I could google him as suggested by Its a Mummy's Life but I just can not be arsed if I am honest, he means zilch to me now. I have a wonderful man who I love and we have three amazing children who are a real mix of the two of us together. Only our special blend of love could of produced those kids and they are perfection!
So, this Valentines I will be spending it with my dh and we are starting a Christian based marriage course. Not because there is anything wrong with our marriage but because this provides us with 6 weeks of intimate dinners for 2 and the time and space to converse alone on some interesting subjects. I have heard from friends that it can be a really uplifting course and has taken their marriage to the next level..................... that I look forward to. I love you A. x
