The holiday

I much about the flight over but I do remember that as soon as I landed in London, I knew I was that much closer to him. It didn’t even matter that my connecting flight was delayed by 40 mins because I would soon be in his arms again. *sigh* his arms. His strong, comfortable and safe arms. God, how I missed those arms.

Desperation hit when I was in the queue for customs for almost an hour, but hearing his voice made everything melt away. “You won’t recognise me”, he teased. I assured him I would recognise him even if he got some work1 done. The bright side was that having to stand in a long line at customs meant that when I arrived at the baggage carousel, both my bags were there waiting for me. I barely noticed that no one else’s bags were there as I whizzed by them, running towards the exit. The guard at the door might have thought I was trying to smuggle something into the country, if I didn’t have the biggest grin on my face.

An equally large grin greeted me as those arms that I missed so much wrapped themselves around me. I was home again. I wanted to hold him forever but I’m sure I must have smelled a bit unpleasant even if not at first, so I let him go and give him a big ol’ kiss. Ah, those lips. Soft and so delicious.

We talked about the flight, and the long queue at customs… he joked that it was really me holding up the line2. We also talked about Christmas and our families and how everyone is doing. And then he told me what my Christmas present was, and I knew it was going to be the best holiday I had ever been on. I was so happy, and so incredibly grateful for the man I was sitting beside. But the happiness was quickly overcome with guilt, because I wasn’t able to get him one big present like I wanted. I got him a bunch of medium presents3 and a lot of little presents. But I didn’t get him a big present, and here he was presenting me with a ginormous4 present.

I didn’t let on because I didn’t want him to know until he had seen all his presents, but I was hoping he would understand. We got to his parents place where we were to stay for the night and I was greeted with a lovely warm house, and warm smiles from his sister and Mum. I also received a wonderful hug from his Mum and I swear I nearly cried. After eating some scrambled eggs on toast, I got him to help me drag my suitcases into their sitting room so I could start handing out presents. He and I quickly put together piles for everyone before we called them in. I had wanted to wrap their presents but I knew from his excitement that there was no point.

“OTT5” was something his father kept repeating, and I took that to mean that he was very happy with his presents. It felt so good to give them their presents, I had been so nervous about what to get them since the day I booked my flights in October. Once everyone dispersed, he and I were left to pick up the pieces and drag my suitcases up to the room I was staying in.

Once unpacked I explained to him that I wanted to get him more, but the darling insisted that I had gotten him plenty6 and he insisted that my present included a bit of indulgence for him as well so I shouldn’t feel so bad. But I did. And I hope I can make up for it before this year is over. I slept like a baby that night…

Posts in this series:
Part 1: The holiday7.
Part 2: The gift.
Part 3: The New Year.
Part 4: Flickr Friday: The never-ending journey.
Part 5: Even the never-ending journey has to end sometime.

  1. plastic surgery kinda work[]
  2. long story, I might tell you some day[]
  3. Friends reference there for anyone who cares[]
  4. yes, that’s a word – in my world[]
  5. I can only hope he meant over the top[]
  6. to this day, I disagree[]
  7. you are here[]

responses to “The holiday” 9

  1. Pingback: fragileheart’s journal | As a matter of heart… » Even the never-ending journey has to end sometime
  2. Pingback: fragileheart’s journal | As a matter of heart… » Flickr Friday: The never-ending journey
  3. Pingback: fragileheart’s journal | As a matter of heart… » The New Year
  4. Pingback: fragileheart’s journal | As a matter of heart… » The gift
  5. You told this story very well. I, for one, cannot wait for the next installment to find out what that present was.

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