When all is said and done
There are two Sydneys that I know – one I’ve created myself, with reality fully in check and broken glass on the sidewalk on Saturday mornings. This Sydney is my everyday - the one that’s slowly becoming a very important part of me, for better or worse – we’re in it for the long haul. The other one I don’t see very often – a Sydney that you’ve conjured for me from a tapestry of words and pictures and experiences that make my Sydney a little less magical. This other Sydney is beautiful – here I’m buried in your arms, safe from time and expectations and the rest of the world and where the only thing that matters is the moment. In this Sydney we’re in love and it always smells like Spring. And then of course I wake up. And every time I do, a little part of me dies.