Talking Nonsense

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Talking Nonsense

As I start to pack my suitcases once again, I realise that this is the first time I have felt any doubt about whether or not leaving (and effectively, starting again) is the right option for me.

This week, I have become acutely aware of the fact that for almost every face I see, every bar I visit, every street I walk down, this is the last time I will do so – at least, that’s the plan.

And it’s sad, as ever, saying goodbye to friends. However –
although as I mentioned in Musings on Homecoming, friendships do change with distance – I’m never distraught about moving away from my friends because I know those that matter will last regardless.

I wouldn’t say I’m upset about leaving the job I have felt under appreciated and stifled in for almost two years, but I am scared of leaving a city of such opportunity in my industry. For I know, if I put the time in and focused on finding a new job in London, I could certainly make the career jump and potentially do very well. Will that be so easy in Sydney? There are arguments both ways, but it is true that the market is better in London, so that frightens me somewhat. And ultimately, I am leaving a fairly good, well paid job where I can progress, save money and live well for the unknown. As if giving up a job without another isn’t worrying enough anyway.

There’s also a niggling voice telling me not to leave a city I love so much. I have been told over and over, London is like nowhere else in the world. Which is both a silly thing to say (of course it isn’t – is any city like anywhere else?) and the best compliment a place can have. The description says both nothing and everything at the same time. But it’s true:
I haven’t been everywhere, but the culture and history and diversity, acceptance, quirkiness and change in London is not matched anywhere that I have been. It’s a city where a person truly can be whoever they like and find their place. I’m comfortable here, I have plenty of friends here, I know the areas I like, and it’s impossible to get bored because there is always a new place or concept to try.

With that in mind, I wonder: will I be bored in Sydney?

Surely not, I loved it when I visited Miss D at the beginning of the year. Beaches and sunshine coupled with city life, and it appeared to have all prerequisites of a modern city: pop ups, speakeasies and the like – how could I be bored? Friends have given me different answers to this question, and I believe I’ll be just fine, but still there is that tiny element of doubt..

And there is the man issue. Things have been going well with one in particular, and although I don’t want to, I do slightly wonder ‘what if..’. Maybe they wouldn’t be going so well if I wasn’t leaving, maybe that’s stopping me running away or taking the pressure off, but they are. I realised today that our conversation mostly has no purpose; I am quite happy to talk rubbish to him. I can’t remember the last time I have been like that with somebody other than my sister, which doesn’t count. A minuscule (because I would never not do something I want to do because of a guy) part of me is telling me that it’s a shame to leave when I’m at that level with somebody.

And what of the men in Sydney? Again, multiple sources have told me they are generally unpleasant, untrustworthy creatures to be avoided (please, men of Sydney, prove these rumours wrong). Mr A (Australian himself), warned me that they will use and abuse me, yet make me think they are in love with me. Great. I look forward to that.

So why am I leaving a man I like really very much, a city I adore, friends I am incredibly close to, career potential for.. Possibly men who may look beautiful but treat me hideously, a newer and less intricate city I do not know, few friends (other than Miss D, and those few I haven’t seen for years), and who knows what career wise?

Maybe I’m crazy. But as ever, it’s time for change..

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