Hey Melbourne… we need to talk.
Melbourne, you know I love you. I always have and I’d like to think that I always will. We’re great together, we really are, but over the last few years I can’t help but feel as though we’ve been growing apart. Our summers used to be hot and exciting but lately it’s like your not making the same effort. It hailed on Christmas, Melbourne.
I like hot weather. Hot. You remember hot don’t you? As in not cold? As in NOT hailstones the size of golfballs in the middle of summer? I appreciate the gesture of trying to give me a white Christmas, but it’s like you don’t even know me at all anymore!
I can feel myself falling out of love with you and I can’t let that happen. It’s the small things, like the taste of fluoride in the water and the incompetence of your trams, trains and taxi drivers. Those special Melbournian quirks that used to make me smile have slowly lost their sheen and I find myself beginning to grow tired of them. I’ve always pictured us raising kids and growing old together but I’m coming to realize that I’m just not in that place yet. In short, I feel as though I need to see other places.
You understand, don’t you?
Please don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t want to break up with you. Not Really. Not forever. It’s not like I never want to see you again. I just think.. I feel as though..
I just need a break.
I think this could be good for us, I really do. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and subscribing to that mantra I feel as though I need to take a leave of absence to get some perspective and make sure that we are, in fact, right for each other.
I have reached my 26th year, and while I don’t wish to dramatize the situation, if I don’t get out of here now and see what else the world has to offer then I fear that I never will. It’s all too easy to mistake the familiarity, comfort and convenience of our relationship for what I’m actually looking for — which is of course love. Obviously I do still love you. I just don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.
As you know, I was born in Melbourne and raised here so I can’t help but compare our relationship in it’s current form to that of an arranged marriage. I’m sorry.. that sounds a little bit harsh. You understand what I mean though, don’t you? If I end up living out my days with you I want it to be because I made that choice thoughtfully and willingly and not simply because I settled for the most convenient option.
Of course you’re beautiful, Melbourne, there’s no denying that. One of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever seen. I love waking up to your beauty every morning and going to bed in it every night.
You’re stunning… but I can’t be so superficial. I can’t base such an important life decision on looks alone. Sure, it’s easy to be blinded by such a charming outward appearance but by doing so I run the risk of overlooking other traits that may not work for me. We both deserve to be happy, Melbourne, and I just don’t know whether we can be if we stay together.
I’m leaving, Melbourne.
My bags are packed.
Running the risk of being clichéd… Ok, so I realize that I’m writing a pretty clichéd break up letter, but running the risk of being even more clichéd… I’m fleeing to Mexico.
By the time you read this I’ll probably already be gone.
Please don’t be angry, Melbourne. I’m not just doing this for myself. I’m doing this for us.
I’ll miss you.