So I guess this is it. After having postponed my flight back twice, prolonging my stay here for as long as I dared, my boxes are finally all packed, as are my suitcases. Only little things remain… those that I will be leaving behind, bits and pieces to which I attach a strong sense of sentimentality but they are of no use to me now. Some of them have been with me since Sydney, the electrical appliances with their triangular pins still attached to their travel adapters.
I tell people that I might be back next year. Might. But one can never be too sure about these things.
And I guess… I will miss this place, despite its many shortcomings. I’ll miss most of all my friends, and the spontaneity, the freedom, experiences of life that London has to offer… the lifestyle that I had come to have and taken for granted. It’s so different, and it’s one that I’d never have in Singapore.
Saying goodbyes are never easy. I know it will hit hardest when that plane takes off from that runway at Heathrow.
We just keep moving… settling down… uprooting ourselves… moving on… and on. ‘Tis the life of a dogged wanderer. Another chapter closed.