Goodbye again, Sydney

I guess I knew it was never going to work, not in the long run. Yet I still ask myself why...

You are beautiful, there's no denying that. I'll never forget those afternoons at the beach, with nothing except the sea, the sun, some uncomplicated food - sausage sandwiches maybe. Normally so pressed for time, we would practically laugh at the clock, watching the clouds turning pink and orange, the waves glittering silver before darkening into that deep, inscrutable blue. The salt would be dry on our skin as we reluctantly put our clothes back on. And there, stripped of all the distractions, I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather be.

If only it had stopped there, we could have been so happy. Couldn't we?

But no. Practically before we'd caught our breath it was time to get dressed up and go out again. And as soon as we were on the street you'd be shrilling at me about the jeans I should be wearing, the car I should be driving, God, the house I should be living in. It was like you wanted me to feel bad about myself. I told myself that you would change eventually, that you'd see we didn't need all that stuff to be happy, that one day it wouldn't be a constant battle.

But you can't stay in a relationship believing that you can make the other person change. And I don't want to be with anyone who makes me feel the way you do.

The first time I left you I was mad, I'll admit it. I wanted to prove that, in fact, you were the one holding me back. This time it's different. I've accepted that we'll never love each other. We might spend time together again, perhaps we'll even become good friends. I hope so. But right now I have to go.

Maybe I'll fall in love with another city. Maybe I'll just sleep around a bit. The next time we speak it will be different. The barriers will be up, there will be that distance. And honestly, that's a healthy thing.

So goodbye again , Sydney. Until we meet again.