no sense

feeling strange today. new year’s eve has always been hard, though I can’t quite figure out why. for me the day comes with an expectation that things should feel resolved, though this is never the case. tomorrow is another day, though our calendars treat it as a new year altogether. the pressure we put on these days to mean something overwhelms me. I’m left feeling a little lost.

I hope you’ve found some joy in this year. I know it’s been strange for everyone. the thought that tomorrow everything will change and it’ll be as though this year never happened taunts me. I know it’s impossible and still I entertain the idea that this can be undone. maybe it’ll get easier and make more sense soon. maybe next year will be better. I hope it is for you. << x

nye

why does the end of this mess of a year feel as blue as any other?

Christmas

it’s already Christmas here. I remember how excited I used to be for the big day. sleep was impossible and I couldn’t bear the waiting. I’d wake two hours too early for presents and wish time would pass faster. it never did, but the time would come eventually. we’d run into the lounge room and tear into the gifts we’d been left overnight, and somehow it’d all be worth the wait.

things are different now. though I still love the carols and the smell of the tree, Christmas is another day between me and the people and things that I still miss so much. the magic I used to love seems lost on me now, though maybe that was always going to happen at some point. I wish for things that can’t be bought, and presents do little for me now.

I don’t know if this is just a part of growing up or if it’s something more. but I know that so much has changed since Lewes, and I doubt it’ll ever really feel the same again. I’m lucky to be safe and surrounded by love, but the missing never stops. I thought time would help, though it’s only made it all so much more precious. I pray for answers to impossible questions, and curse the distance that only seems to grow with time. but I still remember everything despite the year that’s passed. my memories are as clear as the day I left. they’re all I have left, and though I wish for something more, maybe they’re enough. << x

an open letter to everyone I’ve ever known

hi. I hope this letter finds you well. it’s probably been a while since we’ve last spoken. maybe we’ve hardly even spoken at all. regardless of how our paths have crossed or how well we’ve known each other, I hope that you’re finding some goodness in the midst of whatever is going on in your life right now. I know that this is a little strange - people don’t write letters that much anymore - but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I wanted to write to let you know that, amongst many other things, you have been in my thoughts.

this year has been weird for everyone (and I’m sure you’re sick of hearing these words by now). I’ve been lucky to have been safe and surrounded by care through the chaos. unlike so many of you, my life has slowed down during this crazy time. in the midst of my studies and other distractions my mind has wandered, and as a result I’ve stumbled into a handful of realisations about the world and myself that I’ve found quite confronting. this is why I wanted to write to you.

uncertainty has led me to question a lot of things lately. in my confusion of who and what I’m meant to be I’ve looked back at the people I’ve known and realised it’s likely I’ll never see most of them again. though I know it’s no more than a natural part of life, the impermanence of everything scares me. I ask myself all these questions that seem to get me nowhere. do paths cross for nothing? does it all happen just to be forgotten with time? so many cherished friendships and times in my life seem to have expired, yet it feels wrong to ignore their passing without honouring the gifts they’ve given. if you’re reading this, I’m lucky enough to know or have known you in the past. before time gets in the way, I want to thank you for whatever role you’ve played in my story, however brief or distant. I’m aware that growth and change are good things, though I feel uncomfortable with the expectation that I should move on without ever acknowledging what has mattered to me.

I think often of the impermanence of everything in my life. it’s all so fragile. with this in mind I recognise change as one of the few constants we can count on, as people slip in and out of each other’s stories. I’m unsure of how to make sense of it, and I still lose sleep over my fear of forgetting all that once mattered. I miss many of the friends I’ve lost to time and distance. some of you have known me for longer than you might have liked. though I’m still in touch with some of you right now, I can’t see into the future, and I know how cruel time can be. I also know that it’s not just time: people change and grow, and in doing so choose to move on from their past. I might’ve offended or burdened you. perhaps our paths crossed at the wrong time. maybe we knew each other from a happy distance. even if I’m someone you’d rather forget, I want more than anything to wish you good luck with your story and wherever it takes you. I hope you find what you’re hoping for somewhere.

I realise this seems excessive and probably quite strange. I can’t blame you for not reading this far. but in my missing many things lately I’ve realised how strongly I feel about the past and the impossible wish that I might forever treasure all who have passed through my life and given it meaning. it’s now been a year since I flew home from a life I still miss every day. though it hurts to grow further from that time and those people each day, in my missing I realise how lucky I’ve been. despite the time and distance that sits between us, I wanted to thank you for being or slipping in and out of my life. I am who I am because of those I’ve known.

I’ve rewritten this too many times now, and I’m laughing at how dramatic it sounds. I could’ve tried to swallow the feelings and not say anything, but regret is a messy thing and my want to write to you trumped my fear of embarrassment. I can’t offer you much more than my confused words, but I hope in whatever direction your path takes you that you’re able to find some sense of peace and purpose. if it means anything to you, I’m grateful that our paths have crossed. thank you for the time you’ve given, and for being a part of my story at some point, even if our chapter is in the past now. whilst I can’t hold onto everything that’s mattered, I can try my best to remember with gratitude as I keep going.

take care, wherever you are. love always,

Dan

birthdays

birthdays are strange and I struggle with them. as a child I remember wishing time would hurry up. I was so excited to grow up, and each year my birthday seemed to excite me like nothing else would. times have changed, and I envy the joy who once groaned over how slow time passed. birthdays remind me now of aging, that I’m growing older despite nothing seeming any clearer. there’s an expectation to entertain at least some of the excitement I once struggled to control as a child over these obligatory celebrations, though I’m struggling to play along this year. my relationship with time and myself only grows colder with each passing year. sometimes I wish I never sobered to the constant ticking of the clock. I can’t ignore it now.

the missing continues despite the growing distance and the ticking. I’m not sure what to do, though I doubt I’ve ever known. << x

home

it’s the 18th of December. this means I’ve been home for a whole year now. despite taking so much from me, time passes so swiftly, without kicking up any fuss at all. this Wednesday marked five years since Louise passed away in the accident that changed so many lives. I don’t quite understand how so much time has passed. sometimes it feels as though it were yesterday I was waiting for her to pick me up in her new car that very afternoon. I remember how hot it was that day. I wished I’d brought a hat. it’s funny to look back and realise I still remember these useless details half a decade later.

losing a close friend changed my life to a great extent. I think it was Lou’s passing that really fueled my fear of losing things and people that matter to me. her anniversary now falls on that of the day I left England. somehow this week has become a series of dates that serve to remind me of past joys I miss. beginning with the end of our time in Lewes, and finishing with my birthday, a yearly reminder that whether I like it or not, I am growing older and further from all that I miss. the week is long and full of reminders of things I wish I still had. though I’m grateful to still have my memories of Louise and my friends and the time we shared in the village, I don’t know what I’m meant to do with them, or the sadness my missing still brings me.

I’m surrounded by good things, and being home shouldn’t make me feel sad. yet I still feel an undeniable emptiness here. everything seems to mean less now, and it’s only in missing that I feel strongly for anything anymore. I don’t know where I’m meant to go from here - it seems I’ve been stuck here for quite some time. I hope I can find a way out someday, and that it might make some more sense in time. I hope I can learn how to feel whole again. << x

leaving Lewes

it’s now a year since we left. words fail today. my missing only seems to grow as time passes and sends me further from the friends I once shared my life with for a few sacred months. I’ve not seen them for a year now. though I remind myself of how lucky I’ve been to have crossed paths with them in our sleepy bonfire town, the sorrow still finds me now after all this time. I miss my friends and the time we shared more than I could ever hope to say. words fail today. I’m lost. << x

our last day

it’s a year since our last day in the village. I don’t know how this is meant to make me feel, though I’ve dreaded the thought of being so far from that precious time for a while now. I know the distance hasn’t changed since I arrived home last December, but the time seems to make the loss seem greater as it passes.

last night I spoke to Mat about everything. he tells me he finds it easier to not think about Lewes and the things he misses. I told him I wish I could do that sometimes, though so much of my life now seems to be my missing. Mat confessed to wishing for that time again, despite his unwillingness to dwell on everything we left behind in the village. I’m learning slowly that we all have different ways of grieving and moving through the losses we face.

a year ago today I had my final class on campus. I explored Brighton one last time wirh Emma and Jan. we all went to Lansdown for drinks, after which we had our final night in 53, laughing and drinking cups of tea with biscuits. today I saw some friends. we had a picnic in the sun. it was nice, and for a brief moment I forgot the sadness I woke up to upon realising a year had passed since my final full day in Lewes.

tomorrow will be a year to the day since we left the village. despite having had so much time to prepare for the anniversary of this loss, I feel so small before it now. my life since leaving has consisted completely of my missing. I long for my friends and the world that we shared in that funny old hotel. I don’t know what I’m meant to do with this longing. I hope it comes to make sense with time - the village and the crossing of our paths there - and that I might someday know the joy I knew there once again. << x

raining

it rained a lot today. the sun came and went every hour or so, slipping in and out of clouds and showers that lingered and never really left. we’re a week into summer now, and though I’ve grown to expect such bipolar weather on the island, today it made me think of Lewes and the perpetual storm clouds that must only be growing stronger by the day. I wondered if it was raining there too, as it had almost every night during my short time there.

I miss many things about the village and the life I found there. but it’s only recently that I’ve realised how much I miss the weather. it’s strange to greet summer with reluctance now. the days are warmer and I’m supposed to be happy about it. I find it hard to pretend I’m content with this constant passing of time, which only seems to make the distance between me and everything I miss seem greater. another summer shouldn’t be a big deal, and I know rain or winter wouldn’t make it all better. but at least the cold and the clouds make a little more sense to my fragile mind.

I’m another year older in a couple of weeks. I’ll graduate too, closing another chapter. even more bewildering is the fact that I’ll have been home for a whole year before then. I still catch myself struggling to believe it’s all over, that this coming home to my old life isn’t just a temporary thing prolonging our return to our shared life in the village. sometimes it feels as though I haven’t lived a day since coming back: that the time has just passed and I’ve watched it playing out before me from a distance. I don’t know what to make of these feelings or the path before me. sleep is the only thing that makes sense anymore. I miss and I miss and I wonder what I’m meant to do << x

November

it’s summer tomorrow. if I was in Lewes it would be winter tomorrow. I don’t know why the difference makes me sad, but it does. the months slip by so quickly now. it’s nearly a year since we left. sometimes I wish I could stop thinking of it all together: the missing is too much and I often think I’d be better off forgetting it all so as to allow my getting on with life. but I can’t forget, and I know I shouldn’t. I’m forever changed by the time and the people I shared it with. there’s so much to be grateful for, and though I still can’t make sense of the loss, I miss as I hope it might get easier with time. it’s all so far away now, further with every day. the distance is too much. I wish things were different. << x

new toothbrush

mum bought me a new toothbrush from the supermarket. I came home tonight and someone had thrown out my old one. it really shouldn’t matter, but that old toothbrush was the same one I’d used in Lewes, bought there about a month before returning home. maybe it’s disgusting that I was still using it. regardless of how I should judge myself for caring about the toothbrush, it feels strange to use the new one, almost like a betrayal of the past. so much of it stills sits with me, heavy on my mind like too much rain all at once. the toothbrush linked me back to that place and that time that I miss so much. it’s probably for the best that it’s gone. but I still mourn my loss as the new toothbrush greets my teeth unworn. I never thought it possible to feel so out of control of my own story. the pages turn and I fall through them. << x

11 months

it’s over 11 months since I’ve been home now. nearly a whole year has passed since we said goodbye to Lewes and each other before returning to the homes we knew before. the thought saddens me and though the feelings are so strong there’s little I can do with them. I wish time would slow down, though I have no excuses and feel foolish to still be so lost in these memories and my missing.

in a month’s time I’ll be 22. I’ve never liked birthdays, and I’ve wished for a long time that I wouldn’t have to face this one. so much of my time is spent wishing time would stop, and worrying about what it’s passing means for me and my world. I’m older now than I was in Lewes, and I’ll continue to grow so until the end of my days. in growing older I grow further from the person I was and the people I loved there. already they seem so far away, and I can’t bear the thought of being pulled further. some nights I worry I’ll never see them again, and that even if I do, no brief encounter could ever hope to fill the emptiness I’ve found in their absence. I’m left thinking this might have been easier had I never been lucky enough to meet them at all.
I lose drive and I miss. a lot of the time I question whether my missing means anything. I worry I’m alone in wishing I could go back and live in those precious months forever. and though I know how hopeless it is to wish for something so impossible, I keep dreaming of the village and my friends and the life we shared together. nothing makes sense, and though this was still the case for me in Lewes, at least I enjoyed the distraction of my friends and the wonderful world we found. even now words overwhelm and I’m left feeling an absolute mess. I wonder if it will ever change. << x

I should sleep now

it’s not a little hard to understand. it’s very difficult. I’ve tried making sense of it all for so long and I wonder if there’s no end to the missing or wishing things were different. that time were kinder. that distance was shorter. am I bound to this forever now?

I don’t know where we’re meant to go. I’m guessing that we’re meant to forget and move on. but I doubt I’d ever have it in me. maybe I’ll never move. I know that some things never change, despite how much we might try to make them. is this unchangeable? am I destined to spend my life missing?

I don’t think any answers exist now. I used to think I was looking in the wrong places, though at this point I doubt any explanation would satisfy. my world is far away and quiet. some days I think I mightn’t ever find a home again. I wish things were different and that I could make some kind of sense. maybe this wish is too much to ask for. << x

bonfire night 2020

it’s the fifth of November, meaning it’s the day of Lewes bonfire night. I’m in bed listening to the ticking of the clock mum and dad bought me for my twenty first birthday upon returning home from my adventure. it’s late and I’m thinking of this day a year ago, the word in which I lived and the people I shared it with.

bonfire night was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. a parade of thousands of torches down our high street, which on any other night would be completely silent and still. stacks the height of apartment buildings taking flame on the village outskirts under a sky of fireworks that ran on and on. the streets a mess of smoke from firecrackers thrown as soon as the cops disappeared at midnight. I wonder if my friends will think of what we saw that night sometime today. sometimes I think they’ve managed to leave it all behind, and I’d be happy for them if it’s the case. sometimes missing them and our lives there is too much to bear.

the thought of that time as the best of all I’ll ever know is woeful, though it only makes Lewes and those people so much more precious. perhaps one day I’ll know again the thrill and joy I shared with those people then and there, though these things can never be guaranteed. I don’t even know if bonfire night is being celebrated this year, with everything strange going on in the world at the moment. I’d like to think nothing could stop the historic tradition, though I know in time everything is taken away and inevitably disappears.

Eliu called me today, and for the first time in months we chatted for hours. she misses everything too, and it’s a relief to feel understood by her, to know I’m not alone in feeling unable to move on from Lewes and what we found there. the sound of her voice is a blessing, though hearing her laugh makes me wish we could be neighbours again. I’m still writing, trying not to lose the memories as time passes. I’ve almost written up to our leaving each other, the end of our time together. part of me worries my words won’t be worthy of honouring that time, with how sacred it seems to me now. I hope they can at least keep some of it alive when time takes away whatever precious memories I still replay over and over in my mind.

I said goodbye to a friend yesterday, the first time since leaving Lewes. it was difficult, and I wished I could’ve had the chance to refuse the farewell, to hold onto the person. but she left and we now have to try to make sense of it. I hope to see her again someday. like Lewes, I miss her deeply already. << x

11:46pm

sometimes I’m overwhelmed by the fact that this is my life and it’s happening now. often I feel as though I’m watching someone else’s story play out before me. things happen and time passes and it all feels of very little consequence. I have dreams and aspirations, though some days when it feels as if it’s not my life but that of another character, I don’t think of them. forgetting these dreams, what I want to be doing, how I wish I could live my life, can be a relief sometimes. forgetting my worries can also feel as liberating. things that make me sad take time to process when it seems as though they’re happening to the character in the story I’m watching, and not me.

I’ll always end up being found again by these dreams and nightmares. they come back without fail and I’m left losing sleep. I wish for times I’ve enjoyed, often believing the best is far behind me. some nights I wonder if I’ll ever find a way to peace again. luck is something I’ve had a lot of and I try to remain grateful for, though part of me wonders if I’d be better off dwelling with my impossible hopes and tragedies without knowing the joys I’ve found and enjoyed in the past. I’ll never know for sure, but I wonder.

I’ve been reminded once more by the impermanence of everything in this strange world. the realisation overwhelms me as I try to make sense of it. I’m sure I’ll go through the emotions and the right feelings will find me in time, when it seems a little more real. I miss a lot of things and hope for some understanding. wherever I go I’m followed by the same thoughts, which seem to manifest and haunt in different ways. I wonder if there’s a way to tame them. for now, I try to remind myself that confusion is okay. I write and wish I could do something more. << x

the shave, 14/10/2019

what I’d give to retreat from my sad confusion into the home I’d found in the company of these treasured friends. it’s a year now since they shaved my head, an attempt to help me start over. the confusion and bewilderment is different now, though more lonely so far from their laughter and hugs. I miss them every single day, and I can’t even move past how lucky I was to find them and share in their lives. will I forever wish for our shared world again? will I ever understand the hopeless longing I face each night, for what we found in our village, their constant company, that joy? will I ever understand the ruthlessness of time? I’m learning some questions have no answers. it’s a process to come to terms with this understanding, and I try to go gently. forever hoping for more sense with each new day. << x

a sticker found in Durham, 13/10/2019

spotted on my solo walk through the foggy drizzle of a sleepy Sunday afternoon. I wonder if it’s still there, and if I’ll ever forget the confusion I found in the town I’d been so excited to visit. it’s all still there in my mind. maybe it’ll all make sense someday. << x

October rain

it’s been raining a lot this week. I only remember catching dry sunshine once or twice since Sunday. the rain pours relentlessly and remind me of England. more often than not it’s a comfort I enjoy: the pattering of the raindrops against my roof a soothing soundtrack to send me to sleep. it fogs in the valley on the edge of which we live, and the moodiness of it all makes me feel okay for feeling lost or blue.

I’ve been writing a lot about the adventure and everything that happened to me. revisiting moments and people and places through the process of storytelling is as rewarding as it is overwhelming. I fear losing these memories through their being forgotten, which is one of the key factors driving my hopeful holding onto this sacred chapter in my life through writing. though it bears down on me, pulling me back to Lewes and everything that I miss and king for so hooelessly, I know I’ve been driven to write about this for a reason. these people and memories mean the world to me, and I owe them the glorification they deserve given how treasured they are in my heart. I wish I had more than memories, that I could use words to bring back the friends and pass times I miss so much. I wish hopelessly for many things.

my life lacks direction and I have been aware of this for a while now. with many hopes and dreams, I remain daunted by the prospect of never bringing any of it to life, spending decades dawdling nervously only to die without having left behind any of the gifts I’d hoped to create. I escape into my writing to hide from what I know: that I must make sense of the now and where I’m to go next. I pray to understand it all someday, that one day I will be capable of bringing some goodness into the world, something unique and treasured. I pray I’ll see my friends again. time passes and the rain keeps coming back. << x

blossoms

we have a weeping tree that blossoms one week each spring. each year, the occasion never fails to make me smile, and this week happens to be that of the blossoms. I missed this last year -

I guess I must have been getting to know Lewes and the people there as my tree back home flowered in the garden. it still makes me smile now - I missed spring when I skipped it last year - but I would give away this week of blossoms for another chance to see my friends again. the blossoms will fall to the ground with the wind soon and it’ll be as if the flowering never happened. sometimes I feel that way about my adventure, with how far and distant it seems. I carry the people and places and memories in my mind as they grow further. I wish for it again, as I wait patiently through summer and winter for the one week of blossoms each year. time and distance leave me lost.

I went back to therapy today for the first time since before I left. it felt wrong trying to explain the emotions and experiences I’d encountered into our short one hour session. it’s all still alive so fresh in my mind despite the time. I still hope to make sense of it, though the possibility of coming to terms with my distance from and inability to experience that world again seems somewhat of a heartbreaking challenge. I miss my friends and our world. << x

arriving in Lewes

it’s now been a year since I first arrived in Lewes. I’ve known that world for a whole lap around the sun, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about this. it all feels fresh. I still dream of that place often. I spend days and nights missing the people that made that crumbling hotel a sanctuary and home for me.

time is ruthless and takes all things eventually. I’m reluctantly realising this, and though I doubt I’ll ever come to terms with the fact that these stories and memories that mean so much now will inevitably vanish someday, I am working on appreciating how lucky I have been to hold such moments sacred in my heart and mind. I don’t know where the time has slipped - I feel as though I only arrived home from the adventure not long ago, though the world and family I found over there feels further away with each passing day.

I was nervous that afternoon I first stepped off the train into the sleepy bonfire town. after months of exploring Europe solo, I found the two minute trek up the hill to sign in at the hotel reception more daunting than anything I’d done in my life up til that point. part of me thought my spending the semester hidden away in my room would be an inevitability. the thought of being alone and completely independent was something I had braced myself for. I had no idea I’d meet a cast of dozens of people from across the globe I could trust with my life and hug and hug and hug.

I miss them dearly daily. but a year is a long time. I’m lucky they still take up space in my mind: the thought of forgetting scares me. my time in Lewes saw a spectrum of emotions pushing me in a scary range of directions, but I was always safe there in the company I found. I miss that company. waking up and knowing at any given moment I could be drinking tea and laughing with a handful of people for whom I’d give the world. friends who’d dance with me to the same songs on the jukebox in Lansdown each night, passing me sips of their ciders. brothers who’d shave my head or let me sleep on their bed as they pumped out last minute essays, blasting frank or oasis. sisters who’d cry with me and show me how to self care with face masks and smashed avocado on toast.

I miss the town and I miss my friends. I’m so far away, but my heart is there and with them. I’d love another movie night. or a laugh in the kitchen - some of my sweetest memories being as simple as running into Pamela or Christina there, laughing at and psychoanalysing the state of the social monstrosity that became of our cohort. I’d be back in a heartbeat if only I could.

I remain confused by time and the intersecting paths of our stories. I try to not let this confusion taint my appreciation of the luck with which I have been blessed. a year of knowing Lewes, my far reaching family and the grand hotel. I remain thankful for these gifts and hopeful that I will one day understand what it all means. << x

writing

I have a lot of unprocessed emotions from my experiences during the adventure. I started writing about the whole thing last week, and I’ve kept going. there’s so much still dormant in my mind. it clouds my vision and it’s therapeutic to indulge in the memories and emotions they invoke. I remain overwhelmed but grateful for my possession of words to pay tribute to my experiences and emotions and the people I shared them with.

nearly one year since moving to Lewes. I could not miss that life any more than I do right now.

spring

it’s September now, which means that spring is here in Australia. I missed Australian spring whilst in Europe, and didn’t hang around long enough for European spring, meaning this is my first spring since 2018. looking back, that spring feels a lifetime away from where I am now. the comings and going’s in my life and the experiences and places and people and emotions have felt monumental.

spring is my favourite season. the flowers come back and the cold eases off, with the heat never too much. a lot of natural growth in the garden. I’m lucky to be enjoying spring again, having had a great deal happen since last time. I spent today studying with a dear friend. whilst away, she was one of the things I missed most about home. due to our living an hour apart and other factors, the time we spend together is very infrequent, making time spent together all the more valuable. she remains an irreplaceable part of my life despite the barriers preventing our spending time together. it’s funny how now, as I miss loved ones from across the globe, I can recognise how irreplaceable people can be without our realising - until they are out of our reach and far away.

each day involves missing and I’m learning that this is not temporary but a part of my life now. I remember that I am not alone in missing people and places and feelings. I try to find reasons to pull me from one day into the next. << x

it’s like cranes in the sky

I run away from everything. I acknowledge that I need to change this.

listening to 10am Gare du Nord by Keaton Henson at 12:43am

letting go of those places and faces seems less possible despite the deeper void, growing each day with time. a year ago, exploring foreign countries alone, meeting strangers and marvelling at galleries and buildings and views from my train windows. soon to be a year since finding home in England. I don’t see the point in pretending not to hold on to those precious months: I relive a supercut in my head most nights. life continues, though my heart feels oceans away.

15.08.2020

my days are filled by momentary distractions from wishing for a time that has long since expired.I miss and I miss and I miss. is this how it is to be?

August 5th

today I checked the date on lockscreen and read August 5th. this date is one of importance to me now, as it was on this day last year that I boarded my first flight from home and began the early steps of my adventure. the year has flown without my choice, and the mere label of ‘year’ being placed between the person typing this and the one boarding that flight from Hobart International Airport to Tullamarine Melbourne seems incapable of encapsulating the breadth of experience, emotion and connection between us.

the journey itself had me daunted by just the idea of leaving home. it had been a rough semester, tougher than the others I’d trudged through until that point. my existential burrowing had reach new depths, though it seemed as though such internal spirals were leading me nowhere. I held onto my family as a life-preserver, and paddled as vigorously as possible to keep my friends close. the thought of leaving this place, these people - even this woefulness and existentialism, in which I had grown so comfortable - scared me. I had never been far from home without my brothers or parents. I had never ventures so far from home alone. everything about this journey was foreign and daunting to me. at points during that preceding semester, I had openly doubted my capacity to survive away from the familiar for so long. it didn’t seem realistic or possible to me. I believe I will remain grateful for the rest of my life for the nudge from my loved ones to face this doubt and leave.

on August 5th 2019, I kissed my family goodbye. I was aware that for the following five months, I would be on my own and left responsible for myself in places I had never been, surrounded by faces I could not imagine but now seem so vivid and irreplaceable in my mind. the faces once unreachable, ghostly and intimidating, now treasured reminders of people who brought depth and richness to my adventure. longingly missed family and friends from Italy. acquaintances turned companions through missing trains in foreign cities at midnight or crowded hostel dorms or venturing into the field of international diplomacy without a clue. a German brother, an adopted Norwegian family, my French sister. the faces of strangers forced to mingle in the lobby of a shabby hotel in Lewes, East Sussex, a quiet town set ablaze each year on November 5th as the nation’s bonfire capital. strangers discovering and exploring the village and campus and the highs and lows of Brighton’s nightlife and the pubs and the depot cinema and TESCO and the benefits of the Lansdown Arms, the finest institution in southern England.

everybody is a stranger until further notice. I was born to strangers who I now recognise as my parents, to whom I owe the world. these companions were once strangers to me. now they live in my memories, albeit far away. I think of studying with Jan in Karafe, or in my room as the early 3:30pm sunset saw us collapsing on the beds for naps, only to be woken by a chirpy Emma, our older sister, returning from school to wake us up and hear about our days. I think of facemasks with Fieke, who knew what I needed whenever I was hurting. dancing with Meredith in Lansdown, or with Eliu in the kitchen, my neighbour I’d visit regularly, sharing her room with Pamela, the owner of a laugh I wish I heard every day. movie nights and tea time in room 53, my neighbour Fania making us laugh, walks at dusk with Lukas and Mat. collapsing on Joel’s bed after school, listening to his music and marvelling at Nash’s latest projects. short-lived hommus nights with Hannah and Stacey. an unlikely ensemble from all corners of the globe, storytelling with one foot in the stream: Lauren, Rachel, Adam and Sam. attending a wrong orientation to meet Simon, selecting his namesake plant shortly afterwards. happiness and tearful hugs goodbye. Nadia, Hillary, Mike, Bing, Lexi, Christina, Alex, Sam, Vergil, Samantha, Katka, Rachel, Isabelle, Liberty, Pach, Sarah. it goes on.

treasured memories. I hold these in my heart - the good and the bad and the sad and ridiculous and those I recollect and have to laugh at. a year ago today, I boarded a plane. I could have never imagined where that decision was going to take me. my life, though now caught in a cycle of missing and perpetual longing for the places and people I hold dear, is all the better for this period of uncertainty. I am overwhelmed, and I am glad that I left and boarded that plane.

distance

the distance is terrible. why so far? 

July

it’s cold. winter has well and truly settled and I’ve given in to layering myself to keep the chill away. things are gradually returning to normal here, and I’m lucky to be seeing friends more often, whilst spending precious time with family. everything kept moving despite the game changes, and we all remain on track it seems, making progress towards completing or advancing and improving whatever we’re working on or through.

I spend time thinking about the world I left behind when I boarded my flight from Heathrow in December. a lot of the time it feels as though I’m reflecting on a story I’ve read, rather than one that happened to me, rather than a period of rich emotions and experiences that I lived. despite forming my reality for a significant period of time, my adventure and the characters I had the fortune of meeting along the way seem far from me. this makes sense, considering the physical distance and increasing time between myself and these people and places and precious memories that meant so much to me.

I haven’t cried about this for a very long time, though I still dream of Lewes and the world away from home, and of course the people. I cherish the photos through which I am able to revisit memories, many of which I forget existed until seeing a smile or view or article of clothing pictured on somebody I hugged, whom I still hold close in my mind and heart, despite the greediness of time - who continues to take.

a lack of direction and drive. willpower is foreign to me right now. but I remind myself the legitimacy of my feelings and the need to allow my nostalgia for the world that was. thinking of the past brings me joy right now, which I cannot take for granted. << x 

six months

Lewes was last seen by my own eyes six months ago today. the world I lived in essentially closed its doors with the handing over of keys, packing of bags and departure of trains. not a day goes by without my missing this world and the people that brought it to life for me. this period has left a mark on my mind and heart, so much so that each day and night I momentarily wish for that sacred time again. one more day? or a week? or would such wishing lead to my seeking for another month, year, inevitably leading to the ridiculous desire for an eternity of looped time, living within the time capsule of our semester at the grand hotel.

I miss and wish for time and entertain the fantasy, relived through precious pictures of precious people whom I hold in my heart each day. I do not forget and I do not take for granted just how lucky I have been. and I continue to remain hopeful for the possibility of my seeing them again someday.

time continues to take. I continue to wish for more, remembering what I had and constantly forcing myself to acknowledge that this cannot be taken away from me. << x

June

winter is here now. it’s cold and the days are shorter. things are slowly going back to normal, though I still study at home each day. I also think of my adventure each night, and long to escape into that precious trove of memories. often I imagine it would be wonderful to live there.

Nash organised a group call for a bunch of us from Lewes. in the final month of our time together, he had documented a minute each evening of our thoughts, feelings, interactions and antics, all informal and at times ridiculous. he had compiled some of this content into a short video, presenting his story of his time spent at the Lewes Study Lodge. I’ve never stopped missing this time, the place, or those people. this clip was beautiful, and to relive tiny glimpses of our time together felt good for my soul. it made me happy.

we spoke for hours. a group call spanning continents and tens of thousands of miles. people across the globe who may have never been aware of each other’s existence, who could have easily lived their whole lives without crossing paths were it not for the aligning of specific chances and completely unplanned coincidences. this thought overwhelms me, and I spend a great deal of time trying to remind myself to not be scared of it.

the world has me feeling strange right now and, like many others I’m sure, I feel an urge to escape into someplace else. I spend time wishing I was able to foster some kind of helpfulness. I also spend a lot of time missing, predominantly people and shared experiences left in the past. this hasn’t changed, and part of me doubts it ever will. still, I remain grateful for the experiences that have given me purpose and reasons to recognise the potential beauty of the world. << x 

18.05.2020

I touched down five months ago today. this means I’ve been home for longer than I was away on my adventure. the time home has been strange. I can’t say that nothing has changed, as we’re currently drifting through unprecedented times in light of the pandemic that’s pulled the rug from under the world. but this period of five months, despite physically tying me to my island home, has been anything but stable in my mind. drifting in thoughts and dreams that take up so much of my time. processing the past and the people and wishes and simple things I’m left missing. trying to keep it all alive with an awareness of the fact that the time has passed and I’m living in its aftermath. where do we go from here? maps don’t exist for such questions. I miss and I miss and I wish my days away. << x

five months

five months to the day since I said goodbye to Lewes and the home and family that was. not a day passed without me longing for that time again, in that place with those people. I count myself truly lucky, but struggle with the reality that that former life stays there, in those dorm rooms and cobblestone streets, walks to Tesco and pints ofOld Rosie, in that crappy kitchen and those hugs in the past. I miss and I miss and I miss.

‘to be alive is to be missing.’ << x

a lot of time

I’ve been home for pretty much the same amount of time that I was away. I find this difficult to get my head around. some mornings I wake up from dreams in which I’m living and breathing my time in Lewes. other days it feels as though the whole experience could have just been a dream orsomething I imagined on a rainy day.

we’re all in lockdown as the world has frozen and it gives me a lot of time to think. instead of finding clarity and coming to terms with reality I find this excess of time as only weaving myself deeper webs of thought and nostalgia for a time and place we all knew was limited, and has long since expired.

I miss the people and the place and the life over there. I long for it all, and so much of my time is spent wishing I’d wake up in that crumby room for another day in the rain, study in Carafe or the kitchen, a stop by Lansdown, and tea time with the flimsy family that was in room 53. ‘to be alive is to be missing’. << x

four months

four months ago today I spent my final day in Lewes with my friends. time has flown, but the memories feel as fresh as ever. I just video called some friends from room 53. this was the first time I’d seen and heard them since this time four months ago. I didn’t realise so much time had passed, all I knew is how much I missed them, and the size of the gap in my evenings left by not having them around.

life has changed in many ways. we’re all inside, adapting to the state of the world. more time to think. more time to remember and count our blessings. remembering my time away is bittersweet. I try to keep Lewes alive in my life. some days are easier than others.

seeing and hearing my friends tonight was strange. it felt impossible to think it had been so long since we had shared tea and biscuits in that crumby room on the third floor of the ‘grand hotel’. I love the people who cared for me there. they looked after me and gave me a purpose and sanctuary. a beautiful chapter of my life I often feel as though I never deserved.

I’m still there a lot of the time. when there’s beautiful clouds I’m taken back to that quirky little town. I spend time thinking of that place and the characters it brought into my orbit every day. I miss it dearly, and remain grateful and hopeful that one day, I’ll revisit the setting and people that gave meaning and colour to my adventure. << x

time

I’ve reached the point where I’ve now been home longer than I was in Lewes. over three months back with my family and the life I knew before I left for my adventure in August. I’ve seen no one from that time since being home, and sometimes it feels as though the whole thing could have just been a dream. life goes on unaffected by the changes and friendships and moments Lewes gave me.

it was Nash’s birthday yesterday. 21, a big deal in America. I feel awful that it’s in the midst of whatever is going on in our crazy world right now. I miss going downstairs to his room to visit him and Joel. some afternoons as they’d study I’d fall asleep on one of the beds, and they’d just leave me be. I’d wake up at 6pm and realise it was dinner time. we’d make pasta and eat with Jan, before tea time or movie night in 53.

it’s only through recounting in this way I feel as though I’m able to keep this alive in my mind. whilst sad to think it’s so far away from me - more so everyday - right now I need to keep these people with me. I’m unsure about many things and remain confused by the state of the world and my lack of clarity of where I’m going and what it all means.

my heart is still in Lewes. I suppose if we’re being realistic, it’s actually with the people I met and miss. I’m really not just in that dusty hotel than. my heart is scattered. it’s in Germany, the US, the Netherlands, Poland, Indonesia, Canada, Italy, and even across the water in Melbourne with Joel. I’ll never have it all back. but I’m working on ways to keep moving. it will make more sense someday, I’m sure. << x

March

it’s March. time flies and I try to keep up. I’m overwhelmed at how long ago this all was. physically I’m so far removed from my experience, though it’s never far from my mind or heart.

I’m lucky to be staying in regular contact with some of the special people I met. I spend so much of my time reflecting and just missing what was. the people and theemotions and the pass times and everything I took for granted. knowing that right now, another student lives in room 53 blows my mind. I hope the room treats themwith the kindness I found there.

Ziah and I are getting through a miniseries - ‘looking for Alaska’, an adaptation of one of my favourite books. I don’t know why but it has given me a lot to think about. I first read the book in December 2014, aged 15. to think of how much things have changed since then overwhelms me.

I’m back at university and trying to find my feet again. searching for purpose and striving to remain grateful and hopeful. << x

two months

they’ve flown by. I’ve been home over two months now. sometimes it feels as if the whole adventure never really happened, it’s so distant. but most nights I’m back there in my dreams.

I talk to my friends overseas as often as I can. the time differences make things difficult, but I’m grateful to know they’re still around. I miss them so much and part of me wishes our time together never ended. it’s something that really can’t be explained if I’m being honest.

uni goes back on Monday. I don’t know how ready I am to be studying again, especially without room 53 and Lansdown and the people that made Lewes so special. time and distance have separated me from these people who I miss so dearly. I move forward and try to keep the spirit ofit all alive as I keep going. << x

missing

I’ve spent the past fortnight in and out of kids camps. over the past eight years these have been a consistent part of my life during school holidays. they’ve become some sort of a safe haven for me. being back was like coming home. everything clicked into place seamlessly and I felt comfortable, that I was in the right place.

last night I dreamt I returned to Lewes for the spring semester. seeing my friends was wonderful. we hugged very tightly and I never wanted to let them go. I woke up. luckily, I spent the weekend visiting family friends, whom I love, and spent the morning with them.

I don’t know where this is going, but I spend much of my time missing and feeling out of touch. tonight I spoke with a friend from my exchange, who told me she was visiting Lewes on the weekend. it seems so far away from me now. to be there, walking those streets and seeing those faces, feels impossible. it’s what I wish I had right now.

whilst I seem to be sitting in a lack of clarity I know I’m lucky and I remain grateful - I try to remember the importance of this. I want to be productive and do good things for others and myself. I nap a lot instead, but I know I’ll get there. I keep trying << x.

one month

it’s been a month since I arrived home. I’ve been back for a month, surrounded by family and friends and a familiar environment I seemed to have missed so much during my time away. being here helps me realise how lucky I am. there is so much for me to be grateful for, and these people do so much to make me feel loved and appreciated.

whilst I sleep, more often than not I find myself back in Lewes. whether it’s on the bus to rehearsals, at Lansdown or in room 53 with my beautiful friends, it feels as though my dreams are my waking up from my days at home. it’s lovely to see my friends from far away in these dreams. but waking up is always difficult.

I stayed on camp for a bit this week. it helped me refocus on what is important in my life, and what I generally care about. the kids were fantastic and over the course of three days I was lucky to find some purpose and develop some meaningful connections. I’m lucky to still have camp.

I just heard from Jan, just through a voice message. he was talking about how our time in Lewes feels so long ago, because we are all so far away. I guess I understand, though I still seem to see him and everyone in my sleep, so it’s harder to recognise. I miss that life so much. << x

new year

the new age is here. 2020. I’m spending the first few nights camping on Bruny Island with my brother and parents. I can hear the waves crashing against the sand from a distance, it’s actually quite calming. we’re far from any buildings, and I’m lying in my tent with my brother.

it’s strange thinking of my time away as from another year, another decade all together. I’ve been home fifteen days, which has breezed by. despite this, it has felt as though I never left, and I often find myself wondering if it really happened or if I dreamed it up. sometimes it feels that way, when I wake up from what I thought was a trip to TESCO or tea night in room 53 to the realisation I’d been dreaming in my sleep.

I’ve been sleeping lots. I want to read and write and talk to those people I miss so much, but my energy is low at the moment. I’ll write to you soon. I hope the new year has welcomed you warmly. sending all my love << x