a different state of mind
I have lived in 22 houses and I am 27 years old. When my partner Chloe was 18 she had lived in 18 different houses; now she’s 26 and has lived in 25. You would think we have lived in enough houses, moved enough times, lost enough things and travelled enough to stay in one place for a little longer. And yet here we are preparing for another move. The trip from Melbourne to Perth is not unique for me. I have gone from one state to the other five times, this will be my sixth. You might say I have a case of some seriously itchy feet. But I’m thinking I must be crazy.
I’m moving back to the place I was born and lived in for twenty-four years, the place I came to curse, the place I couldn’t wait to get away from, the place I never called home: Perth. Well, there’s always that degree I was a year away from completing, there’s the beach where the water is always warm and the brewery where the beer tastes divine. But more importantly there is a chance for a fresh start, the chance for hope, the chance to try again.
Now I’m not going into this blindly, obviously, and I know there are more than a few differences between the two states. Melbourne coffee is better—maybe everybody has heard that or they already knew it but it’s a big deal when you’re as caffeine addicted as I am. So that’s one to Melbourne. But, the beaches in Perth are amazing and there is no Sunday trading in Perth so that’s lucky because it could quickly turn into a ghost town, a place you tell your children about while sitting around the fire one night. Melbourne has quirky, interesting looking people. Perth has sun. Melbourne has more bars, more restaurants and they stay open later. Perth has Rottnest Island, Margaret River and so many other beautiful places. Melbourne has trams. Perth has…
This was how my thoughts went trying to decide on whether to go back to Perth. I know I will miss Melbourne terribly. My solution? Accept that my heart has now officially been cut in two and that I love both cities equally and will probably always move from one state to the other. Hopefully one day I can afford a house in Fitzroy and a house in Fremantle. That is, of course, after I marry Donald Trump. Sorry Chloe.
In the end, I think I would prefer to chase happiness rather than settle with the halfway there feeling of a job you hate or a house that is too far away from the things you love. When you think about it, a house in Melbourne is pretty far away from the oceans in Perth. I guess it is the pull of the place you were born that never really goes away. I feel lost in the concrete jungle. Now I crave water. My very core feels dehydrated. I sometimes get the feeling when I am drinking a glass of water that I’d like to crawl in there and swim around. There is something about the warm ocean, the crashing of the waves, the constant motion of the water and the weightlessness that cannot be found anywhere but the ocean. The ocean gives you something. Standing on a beach is even enough to feel some of that peace. To look out into the endless water is hope.
In a few weeks I’ll be on that plane again. I’ll be pulled away into the sky and taken across Australia back to the place I was born. I’ll try again and hopefully this time I’ll stay long enough to feel some semblance of contentment.
And in a few years when I inevitably come back to Melbourne I know she won’t be mad. That’s the thing about Melbourne—she doesn’t notice if you stay or leave; she just keeps moving.
By Jas Shenstone
Article first appeared on Jas’s blog.
