Farewell London ๐Ÿ’”

I’m not sure if it’s supposed to get any easier. I mean, at the end of every summer, having to pack and say goodbye to family and friends. Like, “see you in a years time”.

Why is adulthood so difficult?!

People have been doing this for centuries, I know. My parents did it and many others I’m sure. But I was dreading it this time. I think it’s because I had time to let it sink in this year. Not like last year. This entire holiday, I put it to the back of my mind and just tried to have fun. If I thought about it, It became a downer on my mood. It’s not that I don’t like Dubai. I do, I really do. But leaving your loved ones to do your own thing is always a difficult decision. We’ve always been a tight knit family and my friends are like family, so it’s hard.

I had a plan to be very organised, I bought a little diary and started writing straight away. “Visit Donna with a gift for Caine”, “Visit EE and congratulate her on her wedding”, “visit U.K’s new house and congratulate Zainab on her new baby girl”, “congratulate zahra on her baby who’s now about 1 years old!”, “haj, the new beautiful bride!”, “yummy mummy Sarah”, “Danny the new cool mum”, “arrange a few family days out, e.g. Picnic, trip away or BBQ”, “take out my little cousins for a funday”, “arrange a day out with neice for working hard on her GCSE exams”, “pay this bill”, “pay that bill”, “visit primark and get essentials that you apparently can’t get anywhere else in the world” ๐Ÿ™„ “visit shops or restaurants that they don’t have in the UAE”. (Which is basically nothing)

Little did I know that my optimistic mind played tricks on me and I was unable to do half the things I’d planned to do. The gifts were ready at the bottom of my wardrobe, but the time was limited. Most of it sleeping and lazing about. Don’t judge me. I didn’t get to do that for 10 months straight. Honestly. I got on average about 3 hours sleep a night the entire 1st term. Was bed bound by the winter break with tonsillitis and a severe chest infection, I basically thought I was dying (Even thought about my will). So I didn’t get to rest or enjoy my holiday. Second term was the longest term with no breaks for 12 weeks straight! (I tried to find synonyms for tired, but none of them would suffice). And 3rd term was exam prep and the countdown till summer!! 7 weeks, 5 days, 12 hours, 3 minutes, 42 seconds and 1000s of miles until I’m home sweet home! ๐Ÿก

London was good to me. I’d planned a getaway for a few days, which didn’t end up happening, but I wasn’t disappointed, because – london was good to me. Surprised my best friend that I was in town and able to attend her pre wedding parties! I organised a bridal shower for the beautiful bride. Had so much fun at her henna party, attended her wedding dress fitting (which was totally surreal) and got emotional about not being able to attend her wedding, which is right at the start of my school year in the UAE. (I’m not about to get into that right now)

Moving on swiftly.

Last meal with the girls. Get together with the family. Last minute packing and trying to stay emotionally stable.

Another year.

Another year.

It’s sinks in as I lock the bags and head to the airport.

Goodbyes not as emotional as last year, not so teary and less people at the airport bidding us farewell.

I’m secretly glad though, the more people there, the more emotional it is. More hugs and pats and small talk about the year flying by, before breaking down as soon as you pass security.

No one wants a repeat of last year.

Phew, everyone was composed.

Farewell London.

Farewell friends.

Farewell family.

Helloooooooo sunshine and sand…and 6am starts!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: