“The thought of moving home daunts me. The thought that after this two years is up, it’s up, it’s done. And moving home to a place where nobody else knows all of went on makes it seem just like a strange distant dream that isn’t really acknowledged. And that fucking breaks my heart.”

I wrote this January 17 2016, and that was a me that had no idea just how daunting it was going to get.

I want to write about this wonderful experience in Vietnam. Yet my heart is back in London and the words so far are only writing this story.

I am stuck trying to find bravery for the next step- the flight home. Cody tells everyone, even strangers how he is horrified of going home- or should I say back to Australia, because home isn’t really there anymore. This pains me when I hear it, as I try and tell myself that I’m excited for the next chapter and with his brutal honesty I know I feel 100% the same. But I know I can’t feel like that so I try and convince myself otherwise.

I think we are at the bargaining stage of grief. We try and tell ourselves what will be great about being home, and how we can survive. How we don’t need people, how we will have our family now and each other. And a different lifestyle that we have always missed. That we won’t go back to our old ways and it doesn’t matter that people have missed a chunk in our lives.

I try and find quotes to match my confused head. It’s a mix between thinking that this is the hardest part of the whole experience, the flight over was easy, the brave part is now. While also the feeling of home being scattered now all over the world for wherever we have found love.

For me, I know this next step is mandatory, finishing uni can’t be put off any longer and the visa was up. Yes we could go back at some point I know. But that’s not really the point of it all. It’s the now. It’s the feeling of people actually understanding us and conversations so on point in London or even travelling in general. Compared to what is ahead of us.

Our home town I love, but it also has an element of being something we no longer are. And having nothing in common anymore with that is hard. How do you reintroduce yourself to people a changed person?

And trust me, if I could not feel like this I would, and if I could make this easier I would, I’m not trying to drag this out and I’m not trying to sound spoilt, but my heart can feel the grief of the goodbye and that ache is hard to deny.

I’m sure our next chapter will be good and we have told ourselves it’s only temporary. But I’m even more sure the last chapter went way too fast and it’s such a struggle to close that last page.

Now that’s off my chest, let the Vietnam talk flow…