Today is my first day back in the working world after a truly wonderful four-day trip to Gloucestershire with my other half, and I have to say, it's just as cold back here in Brum but not half a peaceful.Me and the Mr whisked ourselves away to the beautiful Sherborne House, a stately home in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by rolling hills, stunning water features and breathtaking landscape gardens. It has it's own tennis courts, mini gym, games room, sauna and swimming pool on site - as well as an unconventional orangery and rose gardens to peruse.
Our little house was decked with bespoke antique furniture and more country-themed rugs than you could shake a stick at! The whole site was enthralling, and I can honestly say it was like locking yourself away in a completely forgotten world of regency, grandeur and horticulture.
Ten minutes away lies the sweet little village of Bourton-on-the-Water; the so-called Venice of Britain. The whole town is built around the river which runs throughout it, and has more tea rooms, country pubs and trinket shops than you can envision. Me and the Man indulged in all of the above, as well as The Dragonfly maze and the Model Village. Both were brilliant, and the maze was some of the most fun I've had in ages. I don't mind admitting that I was like a little kid in there; running round like a nutter, trying to find the clues to unlock the secret of the maze! And the boyfriend humoured me, bless him!
We journeyed to Cheltenham for lunch the one day, and spent the following day wandering the grounds of the delightful Sherborne House. The whole experience was bliss - a really romantic getaway for us both.
Many would be fooled into thinking that this was just a fleeting trip away; an impromptu voyage of self-indulgence? You would only be half right. This trip was about far more then just a romantic break for me and the Fella, and I'm just about to tell you why.
As those who know me will already know, me and my other half don't have the most
conventional of relationships, and unfortunately it is through no fault of our own. You see, my Mr is a poorly boy, as not long after we met earlier this year, he discovered he had Hodgkin's Lymphoma - a form of cancer which originates from the white blood cells in the body and spreads throughout the lymph nodes (in the neck and under the arm). He has spent the last five months being treated with Chemotherapy, and he is now currently waiting for a scan to determine the success of the treatment so far and what should be done next.
At the prime age of 23, this was more than just a shock for him and his family - and me, if I'm completely honest. It was not helped, in my mind, by the tragedy I had suffered shortly before meeting my Man. I had lost somebody very close to me, suddenly and seemingly without explanation, and after finding out about the boyfriend's illness, I nicknamed myself The Black Widow.
I felt I was cursed, and I will be honest enough to say that shortly after he called to tell me the news, I phoned my best friend Ray and told her that it was all my fault. I genuinely believed for those few short hours that I was the reason he was ill. I had already lost one great man, and now I was going to cause even more harm to another undeserving being. Ray set me straight of course, and her words made me realise that this wasn't about me any more - from here on out it was all about him.
Now, nearly six months down the line, it's been a rough ride, but one I'll never regret. As you can imagine though, he really did need this break! My Fella is the strongest, most focused and rational person I have ever had the good fortune to meet, and I can only hope he knows how privileged I feel to be the person he has chosen to be with him during all of this.
Let's face it, this isn't the best of times for him to be working on a blossoming relationship, but my other half always makes a massive effort with me. When he is well enough, we go for dinner, we go to the movies, we go for walks and now we've even gone on a little trip. He doesn't sit around feeling sorry for himself, being spoon fed and reaping in the sympathy - he buckles up and gets on with life.
So this, I guess, is my little tribute to him and all that he is. Being with him makes you realise what real tragedy is. Tragedy is not falling out with your boyfriend over what to watch on TV, or being bitched about at work. Tragedy is watching somebody who is such a genuinely good and wholesome human being suffer over something which is out of their control. So for all those out there who make a huge deal out of the slightest little knock in life, I genuinely hope they can appreciate our situation.
Everyone likes to have a good whine once in a while - I certainly do! But my life has been completely put into perspective over this past year, and I hope that in reading this, I might just help a few others to find a bit more perspective in their lives. So ask yourself, in the grand scheme of things, is it really all that bad?
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