Yesterday I arrived back home after two weeks away, and I am finding that I love my home very, very much right now. Bit weird. It's my last month here.

Life lately has been filled with strange paradoxes... in my never ending quest to have it all, there is one issue that cannot be resolved - I cannot travel and have a home at the same time. Not the kind of home I want, with my cat and pot plants and such, stuff that relies on me. And not the kind of extended, culture immersing kind of travel that I want. It just don't work. So I reach the time where I must decide, one or the other. For a time, anyway.

Sydney was great, and I found myself crying at the airport after the Boy left me, after I'd been hugged twice over by most of his family members who still consider me one of them, who I had such a fantastic Christmas with... I found myself alone, and confused. Was this not what I had wanted after all? Why did it feel uncomfortable like this? It's only been a mere seven months that I have been cohabiting again... before that, I loved my solitude. Now I find that it's become so much harder to do.

Feeling very strange and uneasy, I wrote my thoughts onto Starbucks serviettes at the airport, I'd intended them to be here but I think I may keep them for myself now. I'd been reading 'The Last Temptation of Christ' by Kazantzakis in the previous week and on this night I was thinking about the parallels with how I felt, how my desires for earthly pleasures clash for the compulsion I have to take the higher road, to know truth - at least, the truth according to me.

Thinking of the Boy, how good the last week had been, how things were getting so much better, how he tries and I try so hard to make things work for both of us... and yet I had still wanted to be alone. Yet when I was... I didn't like it. All I could think was how could I go anywhere without him... how can I go to Japan for a year, without him? How can being alone feel so horrible, when I've always revelled in it?

The first day at Woodford was much the same. Partly because there was nothing really happening yet to take my mind of things, I suppose, but partly due to the inevitable contrasts with last year. Last year, I was alone up there, and loving it... last year I had a ball, but last year I also met my Boy, and even though that was right at the end of my two days there it has apparently become a rather large part of my happy Woodford memories. I wandered around looking at the marquees (there was the spot we said goodbye), the hills (there was the grassy patch we sat on, talking into the wee small hours), the stages (there was the one we danced at, when I offered him my water to drink) and everything seemed to remind me of him. I called him, because I had to, with tears coursing down my cheeks... he missed me, he loved me too, but what could he do?

It got better. There were still certain shows, certain things that I wished I could share with the Boy, things I thought he would enjoy, but by the end of the week I was enjoying myself, felt like myself... the work I did there as a volunteer kept me busy, I had lots of bands to see, I ran into friends and made new ones. I spent quite a lot of time with the Lawyer, which was good for the most part... another blast from the past, back to the time where I actually attended a lot of gigs and she was my main gig-buddy. It was nice to have someone there for me. It was a fantastic week, although by the end of it I was tired of the fiercly hot days and chilly nights, the mud and dust everywhere, the non-home-cooked food, the camping and the insects.

The Boy arrived on New Year's Eve, just barely making it at 11.30pm... that night and the following day he stayed with me. The day was strange, I alternated between being enraptured by his company, and crying at the conversation. We ended up having one of those 'where are we going?' conversations... my thoughts on this have changed somewhat over the past fortnight. No matter what, we need this time apart, when I am in Japan... but when I go, are we over, or do we go long distance? I don't even really know what I want, and the Boy is not sure either, so nothing was resolved other than we declared that we would always remain the best of friends no matter what. I craved an answer, a plan, I wanted to know what was going to happen... but who can say anyway? I guess playing by ear is probably the best option.

Yesterday afternoon I finally got home... probably a good thing that I had a final shift to work until 2pm, because apparently in the morning there was an hour wait to get out of the campsite... there were over 100 000 people camped there. I still found it slow going on the highway... and finally, I was home.

Home always feels so much nicer after time away, but I really do love this house, and I will remember the time here fondly. Even as I look around me now I feel a sense of disbelief that I am giving this up freely... this house, this life... I am afraid, for sure, but I have to do it. I have loved every home I've lived in, and there will be another to love in the future.

Last night and this morning, the head cold that has been threatening me over the past week finally descended upon me, but I'm not minding too much. I don't have work to go to, I don't have to soldier on. I can sloth around the house naked and watch as much Star Trek as I want, with the Boy on one side of me and the kitty on the other, the kitty who has been a noisy little shadow today, but who can blame him... I don't think I've ever left him for two weeks before. He seems to need to keep me in his line of sight just now.

Today is one of those long, sticky Brisbane summer days that make you very lethargic... the Boy is napping, and I think I might just join him. I have a nagging thought in my head that I should be ringing my agencies and getting some work... I have spent far too much over the past two weeks and money is going to be tight for the next little while...

But not today. Today is for relaxing, nothing more. I think I've just about learnt how to do that. Need a bit more practice though, maybe.

Before After

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