Dear Australia,

Hey, it’s me, your favourite. The one that’s been walking on you for 32 years.

We had some good times, huh? My favourite times were on the edges of you, rolling in the sands of your sides.

I know “it’s not you, it’s me” is a cliche, but it’s pretty true in this instance. Sure, you’re not perfect – the hole in the ozone layer, the politics that occur on you. But you’ve been good to me, and know that as excited as I am to start again away from you, that I’ll miss you more than I can express.

I’ll see you soon – I don’t know when, but soon.

When I am back, you’ll know – you’ll feel me back on your sides, tickling the edges of you with toes so small you’ll wonder if they function at all.

Love always, your favourite,


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