It’s my last week in icy paradise.
The final few days in the house by the beach.
I don’t feel ready to leave. To be honest. It feels like I only just got back and although I am always keen for a new adventure, it feels like nesting here for the winter is something I would prefer than moving to the big city up north.
It’s only a days drive from the place that has gradually crawled into my heart and become home, but if I know myself like I think I do, I’ll get caught in the thrill of it all and look only ahead, like I always do.
Sydney is warmer than here. Fast. Fresh.
An opportunity I am too grateful for. Interning at a magazine that so many people dream of. Who knows what will happen.
Maybe I’ll fall in love with the city that so many others have given themselves to the glory of.
I am living in a constant reminder to listen to the universe. To know that it is exactly as it should be. In its purest, most precise manner. Sometimes brutal and hard to accept but sometimes all too brilliant.
How lucky I am, to have something I am sad to leave.
How lucky am I to have something to look forward to.
Who knows what lies ahead, but I sure am excited.