After all that worrying and wondering and desperation, looking forward to being home and making a life, I don’t want to be here. I want to be in Canada. I really do. Some bit of me wonders if I’ll ever be satisfied with where I am, but most of me thinks I am finally going to be where I can settle. I know for Mr Chewbacca it’s the latter, and he’s very hard to please and very impulsive. But, like me, he doesn’t want to settle for second best. So we want back in.
Looking back through photos of our lives in Canada, I realise it suited me a lot more being there. Of course there are things about Australia that I prefer and I’m glad to have those things back but I still don’t feel like this is home. Even though technically I’m as “at home” as I could ever be, being in Canberra, my home town. It’s good to be back but I’m reminded all the time why I left.
The feeling of wanting to be back in Canada is, on the surface, a nice one, exciting. But delve a little deeper and it becomes complex and misleading. Do I really want to be there or am I overly romanticising it? Did I really enjoy being there? It starts to become nonsensical if you think about it too much, like repeating a common word in your head until it sounds completely foreign. It’s as though having too many options isn’t such a good thing.
One thing’s for sure, though: we should have given it another year, there’s no doubt about that. I wish there was some way of getting back to that time when I couldn’t handle the thought of dealing with yet more visa applications. In hindsight I really don’t think anyone could have done anything, I’d decided we were going and that was it. Silly really.
But what’s done is done. So now what? Do we definitely want to go back? How can we pull it off?