Squirk's Overseas Experience

The tales of one Kiwi returning to Mother Britain and exploring the Big Wide World... without being eaten by a shark.

Friday, May 20, 2005

Breaking up is hard to do twice

It's my last weekend in my little hometown, Christchurch.

There's about a gazillion people I want to catch up with before I leave, but in reality I'll only see a few. Most of my friends and family here are people that I probably won't see again. Some, like my grandmother, won't be here even if I did come back.

Sad? Some would say it is. In my mind, though, I already left everyone behind years ago: when I moved to the big smoke. I've moved on since then, and not just physically.

I'm not saying that I don't want to be friends with anyone here anymore; that would not be true. I love my friends here, and I've been through some great times with them. When I was living in Auckland, I often thought how great it would be if some of them would move to the same city. I know that friendship should know no distances—I've found, though, that a friendship unattended is a friendship that does not grow.


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