Summer lovin’ certainly had me a blast as I ran, sprinted and near enough stampeded over children to freedom; something us Scots are always crying out for.
Yip, it was the most sacred time of the year for any school teacher. The day where we walk out hand in hand of the black hole of our schools, internally – or externally – sticking up the two fingers to it as we leave.
A day where we can finally burn the shitty posters of pupils that have been long cluttering up our rooms for what feels like centuries and finally take a well-deserved break to mentally, and emotionally, repair ourselves from the trauma of the school year – I still do wonder what happened to that pupil we lost on the school trip…
Is this really what happens on the final day of school, I hear you ask? Okay, we maybe don’t walk out hand in hand…
But, as educators, we are tried and tested in many different ways throughout the school year. Whether it’s from difficult pupils, to over-bearing parents, exam result pressures or figuring out how to tape up your Katniss Everdeen costume that has ripped right up the arse on World Book Day (true story), we definitely earn our summer.
Therefore, as I slipped into Mr. Buff’s car with a cigarette hanging out my hand, I knew this was going to be the best start to a summer yet. ‘Wow,’ Mr Buff exclaimed, as I brought my smoking comrade up to my mouth. ‘Tell me about it, stud,’ (queue ‘You’re The One That I Want’ playing rent free in your head).
You see, for once, I had washed my hair, ran a brush through it, styled it and slapped some make up on my face for going to work. The pupils thought I was a new teacher. The security nearly escorted me off the premises for being unrecognisable and petals stayed upwards as I walked past them in our school’s flower garden, smelling acceptable for once.
While the beginning of summer is occasion enough for making such an effort for work, with most teachers’ finishing work at 12pm and having a drink in their hand by 12.01pm, I had another event to attend. Suggested by Mr. Buff himself – romantic sigh – we were doing a staycation at The Meydan hotel to celebrate the start of our six weeks holidays but also…to say goodbye.
Don’t worry, things weren’t ending, so no need to grab the tissues.
However, we were saying goodbye for five weeks – okay, grab the god damn tissues! And while things were going good, we had decided to take the summer to make sure this was both what we really wanted.
When we met, we had both just came out of serious relationships. We were both still carrying the battle scars from our exes and we both had our own shit to sort out. It may have felt like love at first sight, and it may well turn out to be, but as mature adults – booooo – we had to make sure we hadn’t carried our emotional history from our previous relationships into this one (wow, when did I become so sensible?).
So, even although I had never felt more secure and happy with someone, we had to make sure this wasn’t as a result of our relationship hangovers. To make sure we weren’t gorging on each other, to make ourselves feel better. No matter how much we enjoyed the taste in our mouths…
That’s why, to ease the sadness of our parting, we had decided to do a staycation; with Dubai always offering cheaper than chips deals this time of year. Okay, maybe they aren’t that good but residents do always get great offers due to it being Dubai’s low season.
For us, our stay included: a SUPER STUNNING room, with full view of the Meydan racecourse; a three course dinner, complimented with a bottle of champagne; 25% off all venues within the hotel; buffet breakfast – I had even brought my food maternity joggies for the occasion – and full access to their infinity pool on the hotel roof. All at the low price of £125. I mean…I’ll give you a moment to pick your jaws up from the ground as wow.
It was the perfect deal to allow for the most perfect night.
A night filled with laughter. A night filled with meaningful conversations. And a night which ended with us drunkenly tangoing under the Dubai sky blissfully in love with one another. It was a night that, like the setting of the sun into the sea, would forever be remembered as perfect.
However, it was the perfectness of it all that made it hurt even more when I dropped Mr. Buff off at the airport the next day. And as we embraced each other in a hug that said more than words could ever have done, I silently prayed that this wouldn’t be the end of us and that I would remain a stranger to heartbreak.
