The worst part of leaving
is all the goodbyes
all the people
who understand me
who I am
who have offered unconditional love.
The worst part of now
is that I can’t stand
being around anyone
because the pain of goodbye
is weighing
too heavily on my shoulders.
Why do I keep doing this?
To myself
to my friends
why do I keep leaving?
It kinda feels
like it’s beyond me somehow
that by committing my life
to the ebbs and flows
to the tos and fros
to chance and opportunity
that it turns out that I didn’t choose to leave
but more like
there was little choice but to go
for the now
but I’ve said it before
and now
I’ll say it again
without any ego or pretext
that I do love Perth
and that I will be back.
The only thing
that hinges heavily on that remark
is that to move again may be too much.
I’ve done it before
and again
and again
and each time
it feels
more and more difficult to say goodbye.
It’s almost as if
there are two of me,
one of me craves stability
of location
of friendship
of routine
but the other me
fights without reserve
against the restraints of safety of stability.
And that’s not a bad thing
it’s been a great thing
it’s the thing that forces me
to travel the world
to try different jobs
to move to different places
not based on need
but based on adventure
and I get that
and I do love that
but leaving Perth
after my two year stint
I have just realised
how ingrained I have become
how much family I have here
related not by blood
but through shared experiences
interests
time
unconditional love
and I’ll miss my Perth
family
but they give a reason to return
and I will
be back
brace yourselves.
It’ll be slightly glorious
but largely humbling
and the houses in Perth
will be cheaper
because by then
the mining boom will be over
and we can surf
at trig
and camp on weekends
and soak up the sun
for nine months of the year
and even winter will be okay
because next time
I’ll have a good heater
and a car to get around.
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