He bailed. Le Spaniard bailed on me last Saturday. He told me a few days in advance that he’d spotted a lump that rapidly grew whilst he was in Spain and that he had gone to the hospital while he was over there for tests. He was waiting on them whilst taking antibiotics he’d been prescribed. He notified me that he was very worried and the last thing he wanted was for his mind to be distracted and in a little bit of pain whilst around me.
I’d sensed something was wrong while he was in Spain though – his messages had been far and few between, although I did receive a lovely message part way through his homeland visit saying that he missed me. Not sure how – he’d only seen me once… but still I felt as though he was no longer 2 hours away by car – he was 2 hours away by plane. We hadn’t spoken every day and it made me quite sad, but I also wanted him to feel free to enjoy himself, so I’d refrained from contacting him.
The distance continued when he returned back to Manchester. He seemed cold, almost as though he’d gone off me. And then he dropped the bomb that he needed to re-schedule our weekend. He told me he wanted to “compensate” (meaning, he wanted to make it up to me). He wanted to send me flowers.
I was pretty devastated if I’m honest. I’d been counting down the days until I’d be able to see him again. I’d even booked off the Friday and the Monday from my work so that I could prepare and REALLY make myself feel amazing before I saw him (because a girl has gotta prep, right??). I’d wanted his mouth to drop when he saw me next. I’d wanted to look sexy and slender and I wanted him to wonder why and how he’d managed to wait so long before he’d seen me. I’d barely eaten. I’d been doing mud masks and facial steams. I’d been trying dresses on every day, weighing up pros and cons of the dresses. I’d been scouring trip advisor to find the best bars and restaurants to take us to. I’d even rushed my new furniture to be delivered so that my home was almost completed when he got here. I wanted everything to be perfect.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I always go to this length – whether it be that my parents are visiting, or my friends are popping in, or the local councilor is meeting me about an issue I want to discuss. I really try to be hospitable and have anything to hand that I feel they may require. I make sure my fridge is full of milk for my parents’ endless cups of teas, I make sure it’s full of champagne for my friends, and for the case of Le Spaniard, I purchased a number of bottles of red wine to place in the wine rack. And some JD and Coke… and some brand new, carefully selected lace underwear (ahem)… just in case.
So all that prep left me mentally drained. Le Spaniard wanted to re-organise for the week after, but I was too upset, and sulking; I spent the evening painting my hallway. I took the long weekend off work as originally planned and pretty much moped the entire time.
On the Saturday, I took a long walk along a disused railway line by my home. It was eerie and still, but it suited my mood. All weekend I broke my good behavior and scoffed comfort food and drank the bottles of wine.
By the Monday I still wanted to see him, so I text him saying that I’d moved a few things around for him. Immediately he messaged me back with a photograph of his work computer – showing a trainline confirmation page that he’d booked his ticket to my station. I was absolutely thrilled.
So, in 2 days’ time, Le Spaniard will be arriving in my home town and my heart is pounding with excitement and nervousness even now. He’s received his clean bill of health, the lump has gone with use of the antibiotics and he’s returned to normal, texting me and sending me silly little video’s/selfies throughout the working day, which makes my stressful job just that little bit more enjoyable. I mean, it’s freaking hilarious – when I ask him if he’s feeling ok today and he replies with the phrase: “Fresh as a lettuce” – who could ever resist that? I never had the heart to tell him we say “Fresh as a daisy”… It’s far too cute!
Of course, preparations began about 3 days ago. Washing all of my bedding, all of my nightwear that I “might” wear, all of my dresses that I’m considering… mud masks and steaming sessions have reconvened, detox has recommenced, 10pm bedtimes have been introduced and my place is getting the deep clean treatment.
Still debating where to take him though – my closest city is nothing to shout about – if you can really call it a city!
Once I decide on a place or two to go, then the dress will be easier to choose!
I’ll tell you all about it after the weekend 😉
Until then, it’s been a pleasure, treasure!