A year on

January 22, 2002. I know where the heart lies.

"When are you coming home for good?" Relatives are very fond of asking this.

"Oh, not for ten years, at least." I grew tired of shrugging and smiling inanely.

"That's what she said last year." Mum is dying for her chicks to come home for good, but Jason and I have other plans for ourselves.

"My standard answer, Mum. If you ask me the same question next year, I'll still say ten years." My roots are here. I will always need to come home to nurture those roots, to ensure a strong foundation. But the ever growing leaves and branches of my life - that's in Melbourne.

"This place is too small for me and my dreams."

"You could do something about it. Make it bigger to suit you. Change it."

"No, I don't think so. This town is at home in her skin. I'm just not at home in her skin. Why should I make her into something she isn't, into something utterly pretentious? No, my vision of myself is at odds with this town. There is no place for it here."