Future calling

These last few months have really hurtled by in a whirlwind of travel, house-hunting, job-hunting and a wedding, but all those frayed ends are finally being tied off and I’m finally being given a moment to breathe. Just as a cold chill begins to settle over the flat, Beijing cityscape. Winter is coming.

I feel sad and lonely.

I’ve had a think about my time in Beijing. Over two years now, and yet that number is deceiving. In those two years I’ve been to Sydney five times, Melbourne twice, South Korea twice, Thailand, Taiwan and the US. I’ve done 13 trips within China. That’s around one trip a month, with the trips lasting between a few days and two months. And again, in that time, I’ve had countless people move in and then out of my life - namely because they’re foreigners who were only here for a short period.

I haven’t had the opportunity to really commit to my Beijing life, or I haven’t wanted to, or maybe I haven’t given myself the opportunity to because I haven’t wanted to.

Each of the five times I’ve returned to Australia I’ve had this overwhelming feeling of: oh, yeah, my real life. Because this China-life isn’t real. It’s off the record. Just a pocket of time - a big pocket of time - that can be sectioned off from the permanent narrative of my life. Yesterday Jo said, “I wonder what will happen to our group after this?” This being when we all move on from our China lives. “It won’t be the same, not like this,” I said, without any doubt.

I’m already looking out into the horizon, I feel the future calling. I want to be back with my best friends, tripping and skipping through sexy cities like London, Berlin and New York.