Going home

You'd think I would have written many posts on my one month holiday to England. 

It's been so busy, perhaps I could have found the time, but I didn't.

Jonathan has just fallen asleep and I'm still laying here next to him, just thinking.

Thinking of the 24 hour flight home (please behave) and thinking of leaving everyone.

We always do this. Come to England and never want to go home... Back to Australia. We settle down in Australia and think how could we ever go back to England. Then back to England and floods of happiness come rushing in.

I hate that I feel so at home here. I feel like I could stay here forever, submerge myself in all her glory. So torn, but am I really? Would I still want to stay if I settled in, lived my life day to day... Work, shopping, cooking, daycare runs, cleaning, bills, stresses... Would I then long for Australia? 

I feel like I need Jonathan to spend time here. Spend a part of his childhood knowing his family here, his grandparents, aunts, uncles who all adore him, firmly plant a love for this country in him.

This Thursday could never come for all I care, but it will. I'll be sad. I am now.

There's no place like home but where is it?