Bruny Island

we went away camping to Bruny this week for a couple of nights. years ago we once visited for similar trips with Amelia’s family when we were all still close. I have many precious memories on the almost empty beaches and bush walks I’ve trekked frequently throughout my story so far. I remember visiting for a similar camping trip this time two years ago, freshly shaken from returning home from my adventure. I was still waking up stunned to find myself not in the world I missed but the one I’d always known.

last night I saw Jan in my dreams - he’d moved into my complex in Sydney, and we were going to be studying together again. I woke up missing him. this still happens, even whilst I’ve done all I can to preserve and honour my memories of the world and precious time we shared with our friends there. I miss many things about our world. uncertainty as an acceptable state of being with my distance from the world of consequences. I need to choose where I’m going - what this next year means for me. it scares me and I often wish I could seek refuge from responsibility as I did in that shabby hotel I miss so much.

we sat by the fire last night which was nice. the stars were bright for a while. I remind myself that I’ll always share the same skies with everyone I’ve ever known. there are still beautiful things. <<

23

another year older today. I cooked for my family and friends who dropped by. I slept on the couch and hid from my phone. we played a board game and I was happily distracted for a while. I read messages from people I’ve known and miss, wondering where the others went. my mum reminds me to be thankful for the ones that stick around. I think about what I’d hoped to do with the year that’s been. I wonder if I’ll ever see things through to a point at which I’m proud. another year older today. <<

home

I made it home. it was all a little sad leaving, which I wasn’t expecting due to knowing I’ll be back in a month or so. I’ve been lucky to make such precious friends there - and I guess that as with my those I met in Lewes, I will only miss my new friends more in their absence.

yesterday marked six years since Louise’s death. we visited her spot at the cemetery after I landed, and I had a moment with her for the first time in months. in the calm and peace I still find with her I found myself remembering just how pivotal her sudden removal from my life was, and the long lasting impact her disappearing has had on the way I think and feel. I was very young - we all were. sometimes I forget that it’s more than a story, that it actually happened to us. it’s a little overwhelming.

I’ll settle back in here shortly I’m sure, though I’ve known since returning from Lewes that home will always feel different when one loves and longs for people and places across the oceans. my room is as I’ve left it, and from here I’ll strive to find peace in the midst of another year closing. I’m getting older every day. at least we’ve still got the cat. <<

two years

today marks two years since we left the study lodge and that world we called home behind. I remember my last glimpse of the room that had been our sanctuary, the tears shed into the shoulders of the friends I still miss every day, the clouds.

I lack the words to articulate my confusion. sometimes it still feels present tense, despite the distance. the world still exists in dreams and memories, though I’ll always wake and be further from it all with each passing day. I miss my friends and the home we shared, and I think I will forever. <<

a hidden lane somewhere

lots of cages hanging for no reason. all for show without much purpose. at least they look nice. <<

December

this time of year is strange for me. in a matter of days there’ll be two whole years between me and that world. two years since hugging the family I found there, the stories and pass times we shared in the sanctuary we found in our sleepy bonfire town. six years since Lou’s passing. another birthday to dread, another year ends. time’s ruthlessness personified in a string of anniversaries lurking at the end of each calendar I’ll find in my Christmas stocking every 25th of December.

I did little of what I hoped I might, and I wish these seasons could slow down. it’s all a little too fast. <<