I’m back. Frecklier, and happier.
It was a month in the sun. With family, friends, dancing on the grass, cheese-filled picnics, sunsets at the beach and ginger beer. A cardigan-free month where I didn’t have to say ‘courgette’ instead of ‘zucchini’, ‘flip-flops’ instead of ‘thongs’, and ‘trousers’ instead of ‘pants’. A month of driving a car, wearing heels and eating icy-poles. A month of happiness.
Perth, my home city, is everything that London isn’t. It’s clean. It’s spacious. It’s warm. The people are friendlier. The houses don’t match. No one takes the train. The moment I stepped off the plane, the first thing I noticed was how GOOD Perth smells. Like salt, and eucalyptus. London, on the other hand, smells like car fumes and fart.
Yep, I was pretty taken with Perth and its awesomeness.
I’d been home half an hour. Thirty minutes. I thought I’d read the paper, and catch up on the local news.
And there he was.
Smiling up from the social pages, sporting a checked shirt, his arm around some girl. Looking older, but happy. And real.
I nearly spat out my cornflakes.
The thing is, in London, it’s been very easy for me to pretend that people like my ex-boyfriend don’t exist. No one here knows him. No one cares. In London, I am my own woman. A woman unburdened by a backstory and a broken heart. It’s very easy to move on with my life in this brand new city, without any restaurants that remind me of those first, exciting dates, mutual friends that have to avoid mentioning that they still see us both, or GLOATING PICTURES IN THE BLOODY SOCIAL PAGES.
I urgently texted my friends, who checked the paper and were quick to inform me that my ex-boyfriend now looks like a prematurely-aged lumberjack.
Girlfriends are the best.
So here I am. Back in London for the next phase of my chick lit adventure. I’m wearing flat shoes again. The jumper is back on. And the weather man is predicting snow.
But you know what? This huge, smelly city still fills me with absolute excitement. Here, the possibilities are endless. I can do anything I want to do.
And I can look at the social pages without a care in the world.