The last year and a half I’ve been hopping from winter to winter. I left in January 2013 for Australia, which was at the end of the Dutch winter. In Australia the summer just ended and winter started to roll in. Since I’m used to the Dutch weather, Australia was a paradise to me, even though the summer was gone. At the end of my stay there, August of 2013, the Australian winter was over and the weather was warming up (down in Melbourne and Sydney) of getting wetter (In Cairns). In the Netherlands, the summer ended (obviously). This time I left in April, when the weather here was starting to get nice. However in Australia, summer was really over. I spend the whole Australian winter in Sydney, and where all my Australian friends kept commenting that it was so cold, for me it was more of a bad summer.
I think–I think when it’s all over,
It just comes back in flashes, you know?
It’s like a kaleidoscope of memories.
It just all comes back. But he never does.
I think part of me knew the second I saw him that this would happen.
It’s not really anything he said or anything he did,
It was the feeling that came along with it.
And the crazy thing is I don’t know if I’m ever gonna feel that way again.
But I don’t know if I should.
Taylor Swift – I knew you were trouble
About a year ago, I met this guy. In Sydney. It wasn’t just like meeting any guy, somehow I was immediately triggered by him. He waited for me outside, we went somewhere, drank some alcohol and kissed. That’s all. That was the first and last time I saw him in the four remaining months I was in Australia. When I got back to Holland, he was doing a trip through Europa and we hung out in Amsterdam. A month later he came to my place for the weekend. The six months after that were filled with him doing everything he can to make me fell in love with him, sending lovely messages and promises, pictures so I’d remember him.
When I tell people I’ll be going to Australia for six months, the most react with some variation on I wouldn’t dare to do that/’That’s so brave/I would be shitscared’, After which they sort of expect to say someting like, while lookign very herotic and brave, that I’m not scared at all/ I don’t know the meaning of fear/ Homesickness is for the weak (which I don’t think, just to be clear). And I tell them variation on that, I tell them that I can’t wait to leave Holland again.