I'm packing things up right now, and it's very difficult. There's a little night stand of drawers that has been accumulating personal possessions since I moved in, and cleaning it out is hard. It's the little reminders, how things got there, business cards from various people I barely remember meeting, but at the same time know exactly when and where it happened. All the things on the wall that were of any permanence for me are going to be removed. I haven't been this sad to leave somewhere since my apartment on campus where I lived 3 years. This place I've only been 6 months. It's only been less than a single year that I've spent here, but it feels like so much longer. A comic last night whom I'm not particularly close, but is held in well regard commented about it. I mentioned I hadn't been here for more than a year, which surprised him. It's nice to know when someone says you've made quite the impression on people. I know that I'm missed back home. I know that. But when I left there, I knew I was coming back. This place, I probably can't. And importantly, what I return to if I do will be different. Everything will be different. I have the thought that going home will be the same, but I'm scared that it won't be. And that fear isn't that it might not be, it's a fear of the unknown. EVERYTHING IS UNKNOWN AND I'M BLOODY SICK OF IT.
I went out with Stacey today for dumplings. I commented on how I don't even know where I would go to get dumplings in Minneapolis, though I just developed a taste for them locally so recently. When we finished eating we got McDonalds 30 cent ice cream cones and sat in the sun in the CBD. We chatted a bit, and a busker started setting up near our bench. He was drinking a Coke. While relatively inconsequential, it looked good and I thought about the balloon shop on La Trobe and Elizabeth where I frequented first because it was near the hostel, and later near Salmat. I got to know the proprietor over the various months. Eddy. He's a chatty guy, and so am I, so we eventually started talking. The first time was when he noticed my change purse. It's weird how in a situation full of unknown people who are always shifting in and out of your life, sometimes just a man who owns a balloon store can bring immense comfort. I also know that he's a good human being; one time I saw a homeless man who lives nearby come in with his change, and Eddy swapped him for actual notes. It's that kind of small inteaction that made me like him in the first place.
I suggested that we go to the store, so that I could say goodbye to Eddy, knowing full well that he may not be there. But sure enough, there he was. You don't neccesarily know how your life will be affected by change until it happens.
I wish I didn't have to leave.
Right now I'm off to join some mates at the pub. I sold my bicycle today, so it's going to take a while to get there, but I'm quite keen to go.
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