new friends old place new place old friends

here i am,
drinking tea in starbucks, it tastes like spearmint [though he told me that it wouldn’t, but i don’t want to complain. i swear i’ll never learn].

travelling, writing, adventuring, living, making a life with a man i love with all my heart. strolling together, hand in hand, along the streaming days that pass us by. and there goes a week.
i’m living. i’m living and finding my feet in this fairytale’s summertime heat.

last night i sat on the roof of a building in pioneer square watching the sun as it set behind a veil of sheeting clouds and silhouette mountains on the puget sound.
the wind blew goosebumps onto my bare skin and set a tall, billowing flag floating strong and proud into nowhere, reminding me of the place i’m in.

i drank red wine over dinner with a girl i feel i’ve known a while longer than i have. we spoke about life and love and adventures and connection. flames of the fire pit blew towards us as the warmth of our conversation grew and expanded to life’s biggest priorities, our feminine independence and the beauty of loving ourselves.

two then became three as we devoured dessert in the dulling light and laughed about the silliest things. two girls and a guy, a rooftop and the naked navy sky with no moon to light it. we settled into knowing each other and melted into the gas and heat of the fire burning at our feet.

in that moment

but who am i to know the difference? who am i to call the spade by its real name and forget all those things that came before and stole my thoughts away. nothing existed before this. i checked out i floated and i grasped only onto the littlest breath to save me as i fell victim to wanting and waiting. as i became the pining that became the all of me.

and that time seems misspent. it became the in between i constantly seem caught in. and sure the cycle may end and sure the pieces may fall, but i know more than all of that and i wasted time and i lost track. i wasn’t me, not in entirety. my body walked and stumbled through the life in front of me, while my mind and my heart and my soul had stayed behind.

but i found it all again when i stepped off the plane and into washington air and saw the white of his smile through the glare of his car’s front windscreen, traffic backed up, i waited for him to find a stop, for that first touch, after so long away. and in one moment, into me flooded all that mind and heart and soul that i thought i’d lost in all the chaos. in this other life i became whole, in that moment, as he held me and we swayed and it felt just like yesterday and not eighty days between each kiss.

never has time played so elusively. never have i felt more out of control. never have i felt like i needed something, not like this. when i left i left it here, all my greatest parts are his.

we took to the skies and collided, in the universe of our thoughts, exploding into stardust and all the bits and pieces of hope and love and forever.


i left in a daze, tired and unphased about the lack of sleep i’d just had, whether i packed enough, whether i packed too much. i found myself on a plane, delayed by a busy tarmac at eight in the morning, how does that happen so early?

we landed and i disembarked and ran to my gate for my plane to the states, through customs and immigration and border control. i was flustered and red, i broke into a sweat, arriving at a gate that wasn’t even ready yet. [i thought i’d be so late they’d be calling my name.] so i sat and i killed time for ten minutes or so, and when called, walked down the escalators with the other keen passengers to waiting air hosts below. i sat next to georgia, a twenty-one year old from melbourne travelling to jamaica to watch the cricket and meet other cricket fans before jetting back to the usa to explore for two months more, alone and excited and anxious for what lay ahead.

she asked me questions, over the spare seat between us, while sitting against the window in striped socks and vans, cropped yoga pants and a leopard print sweater, hair tied with a scrunchie in a lopsided bun, “i hate flying” she said “it takes so long, it’s boring and painful. and i still have so many hours left!” we laughed it off, it wouldn’t be as bad as it seemed i promised.

we spoke in the darkness over the hum of the plane about adventures and my favourite spots in the usa, where she just has to visit and what she just can’t miss, while others slept or buried their attention in the tiny screen on the seat in front. we giggled quietly at people speaking too loudly with their headphones on and the kids throwing tantrums two rows away.

for fourteen hours we sat nearly side-by-side until we arrived to clear immigration and went our separate ways – caught in the chaos, forgetting to say goodbye. a fleeting meeting filled with curiosity and hope for good, wholesome adventures. so maybe i’ll never see her again. but maybe i will, this world is so small and things come back around in ways we never expect.

one short sleep and a plane ride

i’ve always followed my heart. this time more than ever. and i’m on my way home. so here i go. running into the wild once more, love guiding me and filling me and sustaining me. love holding me up. love right there. a love like ours. my love. your love. this love this life, ours ours ours. 

300 days away.


i’m home.

fear, anticipation, anxiety, excitement, dread, exhaustion, sadness, emptiness, complete and utter fulfilment, satisfaction.


the people i shared this year with made it all so worthwhile: the people i never expected to meet, never expected to feel so much for, people i never expected to be missing this soon. i’ve never known a life like this, it was only ever a dream. and it still feels just that way.

how can it have gone by so fast?

i’m balancing on a ridge between tears and disaster. i fear the fall, i fear the darkness [i can’t see below] i fear all the unknowingness of returning to a place i fought so desperately to leave. from a person i didn’t recognise, to become the me i am right now. the person i’ve been neglecting, trying to be something and someone i’m not. but this, this is me. and i owe it all to the unknown. to the places i find love, to the people i met.

the people the people the people.

those who made me think, made me question and develop my beliefs, nurture my own sense of self. those who undid me, who stripped away the nonsense and dug their way to the very core of who i am. those who came to know me by more than just my name and my hometown. those who watched me fall apart, who kept me close no matter how many times i tried to push them away. those who became the family i missed and longed for. those who took me in, walked through the flames beside me, ran towards the fear and fought me and my innate desire to shy away from the hurt and pain and aided in a sense of deliverance from all that ever held me back.

the people, those people, the love i have for you. the person i became because of you. the things that changed in spite of all the resistance to or simple unknowing of everything i truly needed.

those people.

300 days.

day 300.

i’m home i’m home i’m home.

this one’s for you

it’s a strange feeling, knowing i’m going home, possibly on an impulsive decision [choosing the day i did]. but such is life, and everything is done for one reason,
or another.

i’m excited. there’s a glimpse of forgetting how it feels to be safely tucked up in bed in a house with the people who love me most in this entire universe. but then the memory comes flooding back and nostalgia fills me with anticipation.
and anxiety.

i don’t know what will find me there, only time will tell, i guess. all i know is this adventure, this year, feels like a single day. it feels like one long day filled with elements and seasons and emotions and reasons for all the choices i seem to have made so impetuously,
and so perfectly.

i’ve lost, i’ve found, i’ve fallen, i’ve prevailed. i’ve felt, so very deeply. i’ve cried, i’ve loathed and loved and laughed until i hiccuped. i’ve seen things that have moved me in a way i never thought those things ever could. i’ve found people who reminded me of people i already knew. i’ve found people who have changed my life, or at least changed moments in my life, changed my thinking, changed the way i look at and into myself.

i’ve found people.

and, so far, that seems to be the most profound realisation of them all.

the impermanence of place. the joy and the sadness in moving, in leaving. the honouring of the journey. all these events are intensified and cemented as purposeful and necessary by the people i’ve found along the way. the memory of a voice, or a face, or a mannerism that would catch me by surprise. and the ultimate awareness that really, we’re all the same. in this big, glorious world, we are one.

coastline charlie

i’ma livin’ legend dall, and i ain’t afraid t tell ya, he said with vigour and pride through long teeth behind thin lips under a white moustache, in a permanent smile, none of which moved as he spoke. he reclined back into a bench that overlooked new jersey’s barnegat bay, shrouded in grey, folded his arms across his big, round belly and stretched out his legs. ya knaw, i reinvenned maself faw times. ya can’t be afraid to do that in yaw life.

he told me all the ways he’s changed.

i nodded my head in absolute agreement, knowing how much i’ve changed and do change, time and time and time again.

so traavellin huh… what’re ya searchin to find? he was really opening it all up now.

he stood, pushed himself up, his hands on his knees, and moved slowly, determinedly, towards the water. he bent over and pulled on a yellow rope and drew up a crab trap. nothing but ribs [yes ribs] for bait occupied the space, he laughed. jahnny didn have any chicken faw us tday. he lifted the cage to my face then threw it back into barnegat bay.

today i met this man, coastline charlie, with his wispy, grey hair, specs that made his eyes goggle and a jersey accent that’ll last for years in my memory.