My arrival back in Sydney on Friday was a day I’d been dreaming about for the last two years. I put a lot of thought into the trip and got excited about the places I would revisit in Sydney long before I even booked my ticket. But there are hundreds of emotions that I’ve felt about going back to the place I called home for a year.
Anxiety. Excitement. Nostalgia. Sadness. Giddiness.
I feel like Sydney the way I feel like Charleston: it’s not home anymore. I will always have fond memories of my time here, especially the friends I made. Only a few of them are still here, but I’m excited to see the ones that are. It feels like there’s unfinished business in Sydney, as the end of my trip also marked the end of a relationship.
Since I’ve been back, I’ve felt like a ghost. This place is no longer my home and now I am just a visitor, not a resident, like everybody else. I’m staying in a hostel instead of at my own apartment. I saw someone I traveled up the coast with at the grocery store, but didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure he’d even remember me.
I’ve also been constantly on the lookout for someone I’m hoping not to run into. And while the moments I’ve spent catching up with friends have been great, how do you talk to someone you haven’t seen in two years? “So what have you been up to since I saw you last?” doesn’t exactly begin to cover it.
But despite all of that, despite feeling somewhat invisible and out of place in my former home, I am so glad to be back. Being able to show Sammi what my life here was like was important to me. It lets me share an experience I had here with someone who never was able to understand it.
And it’s made me realize that my love for Sydney is real, not just a creation of the people I was with. I could still see myself living here if it wasn’t for the visa situation and distance from my family. This time I’m making new memories in Sydney and I’ve never been happier.
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