We're still holding hands through a catflap, aren't we?

I had my tarot read last night and it was beautiful. It was frightening and mysterious and confusing. For what it was, it was beautiful.

I also learnt about Buddhism, meditation and the inner lives of two of my good friends.

It's too soon to talk about it. It was too soon last night and I don't know when I'll be ready. But I want to be ready. A lot happened yesterday, the details of which I can't really articulate. But it was magical in a really melancholy, unexpected way.

Today I simply recovered from everything I discovered last night.

Please destroy me this way.

You told me we shouldn't talk and it's the last thing I want but I'm doing it. And now you're everywhere in my head and this isn't new or unexpected. I'm trying so hard to let you go because I truly believe it's what you want. But is it possible I'm doing something wrong there, too? I hope not. I hope you're well. I love you, always, regardless of what I say or write to contradict that statement. Really.

I fell.

So now I'm off work and sitting on my bed, alone, since Trina left me happier than I can remember being in some time. We had tea, ate too much cake and she gave me a lot of gifts, some physical and some not. One was a book. Another was the realisation that there is hope. For her, especially, and for me also. I'm $120 poorer for staying home today but I don't feel it.

I think I will make dinner for my mother tonight. She's been impressing people for almost a month now and I think it's exhausting her. I need her to know she is loved here, too, though maybe not so blindly. I think that's better, really, and I hope she does too.

Morning comes and you don't want to know me anymore.

My credit card application was just approved so I can begin my long awaited descent into debt. One of my closest friends in the whole wide world arrives back in the country tomorrow. I fell on my arse today... in public... while wearing a short dress.

It's the litle things.

Protect me, protect me.

This time last year, I had just got my first adult job. Goodbye bright blue t-shirt with a hideous logo on the breast, hello ID cards and smooth telephone pick-up ("City morgue", my home phone greeting, was deemed inappropriate for the workplace).

I spent Valentine's Day in 2009 with a girl who loves to hold my hand and that was more than enough for me. We sat in corners of Melbourne and talked about various painful experiences we'd had recently. I wish she was in the country this year to be with on Sunday. I get to hug her soon, though, and that's enough for me.

If you want to find me tomorrow I'll be standing outside a bank with a humungous cup of tea and a terrified look on my face. Don't ask.

Copper boom.

In four hours it will be February. And thus, it will be around fifty days until I leave the country.

The whole world is orange at the moment because the sun is on its way down and I have terrible eyesight. Either that or the stress has actually begun to impede my vision.

I've been doing that thing I do when life gets to me. I picked a fight with one of the people I love most in the world. I either eat nothing but crap or nothing. And I am excruciatingly dull, most especially when writing blogs. Even I get bored listening to me talk. Seriously. I don't even want to finish these sentences because I know they're no better at the end than they were at the start.

I have fifty days to decide what I want. What I will do.

Shame is the shadow of love.

It's the morning of Australia Day and the air in my neighbourhood smells distinctly like burning. It makes me wrinkle up my nose but I'm sure other people associate the scent with barbeques. I hope it makes them smile.

I was disgusted the other day to realise that I have unwittingly accrued a slight tan this summer. How I did that I can't be sure but it's disappointing nonetheless. Thank goodness I'll be in England soon enough where, try as it might, the weather can't affect people's skin. Only their moods. Last night my neighbour talked to me about how when he was in England people went to the pub at lunchtime during winter in order to offset the boredom and loneliness they felt walking home from work in the dark later in the day. I wondered if he knew that I see so many people in the city doing that all the time while the sun still shines brightly overhead for the entire day and most of the night. What's our excuse?

I want to feel patriotic but it is a feeling I'm not entirely familiar with. The things I am proud of in this country are present in basically every other culture in the world, somewhere, and that's what I focus on when I think about things in this world that are beautiful and worth celebrating and fighting for. That being said, I am thankful for a country that gives me public holidays on which I can sleep in and catch up on reading and thinking and cooking. And I am thankful for a country that gives me the privileges I need in order to get organised for a long overseas trip. Right now I am mostly thankful for a country that is gracious enough to let me leave it and come back whenever I want.

I feel guilty for missing those who've left me so very much. I shouldn't want them back so badly, I should stop daydreaming about when they return. They will come back and I should be gracious and wish them well on their own adventures. They're travelling the world and discovering themselves and doesn't that sound like a familiar desire? And yet I count the seconds until they're back with me and I can claim them as my person, my friend. Don't cling so hard, Hannah, or they just might squeeze through the gaps in your fingers like sand. I stare at their postcards, pinned up on my cubicle wall at work, and imagine them. They exist only in my mind right now and, hell, that is a crazy place. Come home, guys. Please? I need you to be real so I can hug you and- I promise- let you go.

Today is waffle day, I've decided. So I'm going to go and eat my feelings. Try not to miss me too much, 'kay?

I felt the rush of a thousand heartbreaks.

I spent the first hour of my day today lying on a mattress in Andrea's lounge room eating popcorn and reading about places to go in Austria. I don't even plan to go to Austria. But it was fun to read about nonetheless.

Andrea and I had a movie night last night that she graciously let me fall asleep during at around 1am. That girl makes me really happy. Being around her means not bothering to put on an act or a persona. She's so low key in the best possible way. And she has a beautiful puppy who tries to eat your hand.

I miss having time during summer to go to the Australian Open and look at the pretty tennis players. I miss cooking all the time when I had flexible Uni hours. I miss having the presence of mind to miss things when you're not working all day and resting at night time because you're weak and lazy and ... me.

But mostly I'm good. I saw Ryan yesterday and he put me in the right mood to enjoy the rest of my weekend and actually sit down to write this blog. Hopefully I'll be up to writing something of substance after our next meeting, although knowing Ryan that'll be a while away. Ah well, see you in June.