He had an owl on his hand. I remember kissing it the first night I met him in the flesh, our first bonds formed through the flames of Tinder. The first words he wrote to me lamented that I was moving overseas; he casually used my nickname in the sentence. He intrigued me and so did the owl.

I nearly went back for him, but he told me I couldn’t because I needed to stay for me. He didn’t want me to sacrifice myself for him – unlike the way I had acted in all other relationships whether my partners had asked me to or not – and I will always love him for that. Even now, months after being across several seas and oceans, thinking of him hurts. The oceans that part us make their way to my eyes when I think of how he was wise like the owl on his hand. I knew that I would want to go back; he knew that I shouldn’t.

I don’t really believe in soulmates. But, in the handful of moments I spent with him, I did. We sipped our chai teas on his balcony in the morning sun. He woke up in the middle of the night when he realised I was restless and got out of bed to find me a notebook in which to write because I was inspired. I didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. He cared for his friends, his family so deeply. How could I hide from someone so compassionate, so full of feeling?

Thinking of him hurts. I mourn for our potential and while I know there are no guarantees that it would have been reached it was so ripe. So tender.

I’m pausing now to collect myself. My chest feels tight and my eyes are wet. How can someone I knew for so little time impact on me like this?

One of the few nights we spent together, I woke up and looked at him. The moonlight glinted through his curtains and lit up his resting face. It was peaceful and I made myself enjoy the bittersweet moment knowing that I might not get to enjoy it again – that I probably wouldn’t.

The night he awoke to find me a notebook, I wrote something I didn’t want to forget. I brought it overseas with me and, just now, panicked because I couldn’t find it straight away. Now I look at the ripped out page with messy writing and midnight thoughts and my heart aches.

I miss him. I can’t work out if it is worse knowing that I have done the right thing for myself and that this pain is part of that. But I can only live on one side of the world and we both know that I’m on the right one. Owls are wiser than I.


purple-tinged night sky and under the glow of a yellow moon. I wonder why the timing is so off. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me gently, wiping my tears with the tips of his thumbs. // I saw the church reaching into the night sky + the belltower alongside the university. 3 different symbols of this decade in Newcastle. // His hands brushed up and down my legs. I brushed my fingertips along his chest. // I didn’t want it to end.


Feature image by Vincent van Zalinge on Unsplash

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  • Avatar EmaratForex says:

    “Place yourself in the middle of the stream of power and wisdom which animates all whom it floats, and you are without effort impelled to truth, to right and a perfect contentment.”

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  • Those moments when you're too lazy to meet up in Aus but will meet up in the UK 🙌 
My first ever overseas trip was with Edie. I was the worst companion: anxious, no idea what to do, scared, relying on Edie to come up with all the ideas and all the solutions. WHAT A CHANGE! Now I literally jump on a plane with no idea what language they speak in the country to which I'm going, with a small backpack and no plans. Plus, I moved overseas by myself! None of it would have been possible without that first trip with Edie, or without seeing her many travel photos and feeling all kinds of jelly 💃🏼 So thanks, m8. Y.A.L.T.
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  • Carrot cake in the countryside 🥕🍰
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  • Welcome back to bright and colourful photos, friends 🍉 Buranooooooo is my favourite!
📷 @lauritacolor .
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  • I was wandering around, looking for a place to get some groceries when I looked up and saw this beauty at dusk. Always look up.⁠
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  • Yeah, so, Chanctonbury Ring is thought to have been a significant place from around the sixth to fourth centuries BC. BC. I'll say it again: BC. Hol-y-crap-a-doodles. It's OLD. And when I visited and the fog rolled across while I climbed towards the ancient ring, it felt like there was a bit of magic in the air and I was the only person on earth.⁠
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  • Beautiful buildings, bulbs and branches. The trifecta.⁠
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  • z-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ero. gra-a-a-a-a-a-avity.⁠
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Mate, who am i?

(I ask myself the same thing)

Travelling can be really hard when you never feel like you're prepared. But, the more I do it the more I realise that being unprepared is the best way to travel. I’m Rowena. I live with depression and an anxiety disorder, which inspires a lot of my writing. My first reaction is to over-pack, over-worry, freak out, and give myself a headache. I’m consciously rebelling against that.

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