Things between

nightbus

It’s almost here. The day I swap London for Australia and all that that entails. I have just seven days left in the town I’ve called home for the last decade and suddenly; words fail me. Or rather, I’m failing words. So much so that I’m already filing this one under ‘unpublished’. Let’s see where it goes.

Leaving anywhere is hard. There’s so much to do and so much to say that it creates this constant pressure that often means you can’t see what it is you’re leaving. Only where you need to get to. I think this must never be more the case than when moving to another country.  It’s just not normal to go about for weeks on end knowing that you’ll most likely never see these people or go to that place again – at least not for a very long time. It’s like constantly being on holiday but without the fun bits and it puts a very odd spin on everything you do. A pressure for it to be amazing or, at the very least, not terrible.

I remember this feeling when I resigned from my teaching post. Except in the classroom, it had this incredibly positive effect. I started to see every lesson as having elements of finality to it and it made me enjoy it more, it even made me a better teacher for a time.

I’m cross with myself that I didn’t apply this logic outside of school. I’m even more cross for only seeing now that that is what I should have done. With seven days to go.

And then it was done.

I write this edit from Melbourne. September is a day old, spring has sprung and it’s exactly a month since I started writing this. 

I already know it’s going to be the little things. 

A daily conversation with a person you buy coffee from.

Finding new ways between the A and B of the day.

The discovery that the metro free paper has one of your most favourite things – an ‘Overheard’ section – every day.

It’s also really pretty here.

Didn’t someone once say something about a thousand words and pictures?

feet first

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