It occurred to me quite suddenly the other day that sooner rather than later I’ll be leaving Edinburgh once again. I’m sure this realisation seems ridiculous to most of you – how could I possibly forget I was just here for a holiday, seeing as my tickets were booked well in advance, I left A back in Adelaide, and I enrolled in my Honours subjects at the start of the week? How could I simply forget?
Well, I just did.
Coming back to Edinburgh was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. It was like coming home. I woke up the first morning I was here and slipped almost immediately back into old routines and patterns. My ‘r’s slipped back to their weird Scottish-Aussie lilt (sorry A, it won’t happen when I’m back in Australia), I started saying “hiya” immediately, and I felt as though I had simply slotted in back where I was supposed to be.
Now before someone gets all mad, I don’t dislike Australia. It’s great, genuinely. I like Australia. But that feeling of slipping back home didn’t happen when I returned to Adelaide. I spent most of last semester utterly miserable, and whilst I’m sure my constant pining for Edinburgh was more than frustrating for most of you back in Rads, I’m not going to lie about it.
So when I realised the other day as I was walking down the Royal Mile that in less than two weeks I’ll be getting on a plane for the several hours back to Australia, my heart couldn’t help but sink.
It’s not that I don’t want to go back to Australia, back to uni and to A and my family and friends. It’s just that I don’t want to have to leave my life here for another year.
Coming back to Edinburgh has confirmed more than anything that this is where I want to be, and although I’ll do my best not to mention it to you Adelaide folks, I’m not ashamed of it in the slightest.
Home is where the heart is after all, and my heart well and truly lies in Edinburgh.