This morning, I felt the warmth of your body close to me 

and stroked my fingers across your shoulder,

But this plane ride drew an air-trail of separation between us.

This morning, our hands touched over a cup of tea 

and you hugged me, as tears pricked my eyes,

But this plane ride is unmoved by my sadness.

This morning, you were a quiet whisper away

and your voice a soothing hope for the future,

But this place ride is too intent on its purpose to listen.

As I stood on the platform of the Vienna airport train station, I reflected on my feelings towards the place. At the start of my week in my other home, it is excitement and the welcome of somewhere familiar, but when I step onto the platform at the end of my time in my other home, it is a place of quiet resignation. I purposefully focus on my foot steps up the escalator and towards departures.

I think that I have become used to living between two places. That transition from one familiar place to the other has become easy and seamless. As I walked up the street to the flat this trip, it felt as if I had only just left. Chris remarked that it felt as if I’d just been out shopping for a while, a rather long while mind! I love the benefits both homes bring, the quietness of one, with the variety and sense of freedom of the other.

However, the part that is gut wrenchingly hard, is the leaving part. Not the place, the person. I can be content with my own company. I become used to it after a few transition days. Yet as time has moved on in this relationship and I have come to know this person more and more, to become ever more comfortable with their presence, the lack of it becomes harder.

I do not think  staying fixed in one place will ever be part of our nature, but it is our hope, that by the end of this year, we will be in a position to travel together and no longer a plane ride away.

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