on advice not taken

So mum said to me, "whatever you do, don't do anything stupid".

Pretty wise advice really. She could have said anything like, "whatever you do, don't cartwheel to work". 

So, on the last day of 2011, straddling the end and the beginning in the wrong underwear, I got a tattoo. 

Well, my friends and I got a tattoo. Occasionally, I look down at my wrist and think to myself, "we should have probably thought about this". But mostly, I thank my favourite planet Saturn that I am one ridiculously fortunate girl to have my friends. 

everytime i look at you now, my heart breaks.
i want you.
i don't want you.
i want everything.
and i know that this is not possible.
maybe time will pass and this will have been a horrible dream.
one in which i was the villain who broke two hearts.
one in which i want to hug you.
and kiss you.
and lay with you.
but you're the only person in the world that i can't do that with.
and i'm the only person in the world you don't want to do that with.
i want to say sorry in every language that i know.
the only problem is, sorry, in every language that i know is not enough.
even if i was linguistically gifted and i knew how to say sorry in more than one language, it would not be enough.
maybe i will find myself in your arms.
laughing at my stupidity.
maybe i won't.
i've loved you forever.
and i wish i could just undo this last month.
rewind back to that moment in which i started to question the only thing i have known these last few years.
that you are the love of my life.
that one day i will see a child - half you - half me
and that child will call me mum
and call you dad
and we will embarrass that child
and love that child
and teach that child that it is possible to have a forever kind of love
that one day i will see you waiting for me at the altar.
i hate me right now.
because i love you so much and i never wanted to hurt you.
i never want to hurt you.
home was you.
and here i sit alone hoping you're okay.
waiting for my takeaway food hoping that we get past this
and that one day, at the very least, you and i can have a coffee
and smile and make awkward jokes
it feels like a waste of love
but i know that if i lose you after this, that i probably never deserved to have your love
i'm sorry
i love you

festive

everything is a mess.

my hair needs a cut.

i need to think before i speak.

broken promises

somewhere out there is a dream of mine sticking up its rude finger at me for treating it like a booty call to keep me warm at night when the ceiling was the limit and i couldn't afford a plane ticket.

storms

Today in Melbourne, everyone waited for the storm. At about 4PM, we stared out of our office window, looked inquisitively at one another between emails of cute baby animals and asked, "where is it?"

I didn't see much of the storm. I was home half an hour after work ended. I looked out through the window and watched thick grey clouds replace the blue ones I had stared out only minutes before. I watched rain and strong winds. I sat still and dreamed between TV ads and discussions of a perfect dinner.

I remember years spent thinking that this time next year, I will not be in Melbourne. Whether it was Sydney or overseas, I thought, I have to leave someday. It's not that I don't love Melbourne. I love this city. It is still one of my favourite cities in the world. I love its bars and its streets; I love the markets and the amazing food we have here; I love it because it is and will always be home.

So many times these plans were interrupted by new jobs, bills, a sudden upheaval of everything I wanted to leave behind... just life itself.

But this time next year, I will not be staring out into this city. I won't be joining in the chorus of "that's Melbourne weather for you". I will likely miss the coffee. I will definitely miss my friends and family.

We leave in April.