I’ll never forget the day my boyfriend told me he wanted to move to the other side of the world, for me.
It was late 2011 and we were in a bar (not surprisingly, given the amount of time I used to spend in pubs, bars and clubs) in the London suburb of Clapham, about 20 minutes’ walk from the beautiful old townhouse I then called home.
Just a few weeks earlier I had, after many sleepless nights and stressful, emotional days, announced that the time had come: I wanted to move home to Australia.
‘I could just come with you,’ he said, or something similar.
‘Really?’ I said, a bit too loud and rather unromantically.
‘Yeah, if you want me to,’ he said, cautiously given my reaction.
I was stunned. Was this shy, conservative, amazing Englishman really willing to move to the other side of the world for me; a boring, kinda weird girl he’d only known for a year. I felt odd and yucky.
The idea of him coming with me had crossed my mind, but I had aggressively brushed it aside because:
a) “we hardly even knew each other”b) no one would ever do something like that, just for me, and
c) I had never intended for this relationship to be “serious”.
I spent the rest of the night, week and, well, the following six or so months, with a racing heart and a very funny feeling inside.
It couldn’t really be happening. He couldn’t seriously want to leave his family, friends, job, life just to be with me.
With my flights already booked, I left London just a month later, arriving back in Australia in November 2011. Despite his constant on visa applications, flight bookings, work resignations etc, I still found the whole situation surreal.
I was not prepared to let myself believe that he was actually going to fly into Melbourne airport on February 8 until he was here, in the country, in the flesh.
Not that he had ever, not even once, lied to me, let me down or broken a promise. But others before him had and that’s all I knew.
For months after he arrived, even after he got a job and we created a new life together, something still didn’t feel right.
I couldn’t work out why.
If I’m completely honest, it’s because I didn’t think it could work. I couldn’t just let go of my ‘this will never work’ attitude and be happy that that this man – this amazing, generous, friendly, beautiful man – was here in Australia because he loves me. He wasn’t here to break my heart, or to further his career, or to travel, or to make the shocking discover that I fart and wear trackpants and stress about stupid little things. This man was here for me – the good, the bad and the ugly. And I was allowed to want that. This was a good thing. This is a good thing.
This post was written in response to one of a Daily Prompt from The Daily Post http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/25/prompt-moments-to-remember/
What have been the most memorable moment/s in your life, good or bad, happy or sad? The team at Amica would love to hear from you.
Shannon Crane is a journalist and communications professional who lives in (what she says is) the best city in the world, Melbourne. With her 30th birthday fast approaching, she is doing her best to balance her love of rooftop bars, travel, chocolate, red wine, shopping and more red wine with those more grown-up things like sticking to a budget, working, cleaning and planning for the future. It ain’t easy. You can follow all her adventures on her blog Sultanas and Vegemite www.shannoncrane.wordpress.com.