Letters to July – Third

I’m going to try and blog every day during July as part of Letters to July. It’s probably a bad idea.
Dear July,
We’ve been in Melbourne for well over a year now. It’s been long enough that I should start feeling at home soon. I’m trying. I’ve bought plants for our flat and put pictures on the wall. I’ve made an effort to address some of my deep seated homesickness for people and places and especially for a period of time in mid-2013 (it’s strange realising you can feel homesick for a time). I’m getting there. But somehow surrendering to Melbourne still feels like… well, surrender. Giving up. Letting go. For some reason I can’t separate the idea that belonging to this place somehow means I need to sacrifice part of my belonging to the places before it.
This week though, I’m doing Melbourne with my parents. They’ve only been here a handful of times, mostly for fleeting weekend trips. There’s still so much about it that excites them. I introduced them to ramen today. How great is ramen? How great would it be to go back and have ramen for the first time? My parents liked ramen a lot.
It’s nice seeing Melbourne differently. With mum and dad, I realise how at home I am here, even though I rarely feel that way. I know how to get places. I can recommend places to eat. The staff at our comic shop gets out our order as soon as I walk in the door and we have a friendly chat while I pay. There are things about Melbourne that I would miss quite desperately if we left. 
We had afternoon tea in the David Jones Foodhall. That place is the height of metropolitan living to me. Mum used to take me when we visited Sydney and we’d buy little tubs of salad to eat for lunch. It feels so sophisticated. Sometimes, after a longer than usual day, I’ll go in and buy discount quiche for dinner. It is one of the few things with the capacity to connect to both the part of me that will always be “from the country” and that part of me that lives in the city now.
Alex x

Letters to July is a project started by Emily Diana Ruth. For more information, click here.

Further reading

December – home

I spent the first minutes of 2018 on the beach. I’ve never actually spent New Year