From down under with love

It is funny to see how eleven months of ignorance, judgment and dislike bordering hate can change into one month of love and passion that override all the past negative feelings. Maybe love does conquer it all. I am not talking about a toxic love affair with a person. I am talking about something we usually do not pay too much attention to - love with the place of our residence.

I am now sitting on-board the plane bound for Abu Dhabi. I left Sydney, Australia about 30 minutes ago after a year and a few days of living here (now, I should say 'there'). For various reasons, I did not want to move to Australia (even if I knew it was only for a year because of my work contract). I always thought that it was a great city in an amazing country but I did not like the idea of me being there. My mind was somewhere else and Sydney was a geographical obstacle. But a few weeks ago, circumstances changed and suddenly, I became mentally and emotionally available to fall in love with the city I was living in. Unsurprisingly all the mounting tension in my life dissolved and disappeared. There was no more pressure, no more haste. It was only about me. I had quite a lot of love to give and Sydney turned out to be the lucky receiver of that feeling of mine.

The fact of my quickly upcoming departure only accelerated the whole process. I got to really like and enjoy the city and its people. The hardly dressed-up Kings Cross girls miraculously stopped being annoying to me. The over-tattooed boys were no longer ugly to me either. I realized that they were not the issue or the problem. The problem was me. I got to clearly see how judgmental I had been over the past few months. I decided not to try to make Sydney what I wanted it to be but accept it for what it was. It worked. I commenced to appreciate it.

But my days were numbered. It took me almost eleven months to fall in love with the city and the price to pay for that delay was high - a limited amount of time to actually embrace and enjoy the new feeling. I only had several weeks. But it was beautiful, it was amazing, it was blissful. I learned to enjoy the small things - my morning walk to work with the view of the harbor, going past a gorgeous park and marching into the city jungle. I enjoyed my weekend brunches (solitary or accompanied by some good friends). I even started liking clubbing and going to night clubs I would normally never go to. I started being nostalgic about my departure not wanting it to happen at all.

And right now, still on the same plane while listening to Fleetwood Mac, having left the magic land down under behind, I am experiencing this bitter-sweet feeling. Two days ago, while cleaning up my room and starting to pack, I had to throw away old bus, ferry or cinema tickets and a lot of other souvenirs of Australia. It all brought the memories of the past twelve months and made me realize that at that moment the clock had started its final countdown. My hours in Sydney were counted. At that very moment, it began to become my past. I will miss it dearly. I will miss it for giving me a great professional opportunity, for allowing me to live in an amazing city, for teaching me to take things for what they are and not judge that much anymore, for kicking me out of my mid-twenties crisis, for reconciling me with the Western World and telling me that I do not need to live in North Africa to have a transcending experience.

And while the feeling of missing makes me a bit sad, I am also very happy to have experienced all of that during the past year.

I have had an amazing year.