Ink & Wine Bottles

Three weeks ago I hopped on a flight to Melbourne, caught the Frankston line and landed on friend's doorstep as a surprise. Lots of good things happened, including family lunch, meeting her other half, time in the sunshine with her parents learning how they met, and getting to wander down sweet little streets and lose myself. As well as, of course, spending time with the ever-radiant and always-inspiring Sam. I could dwell on all these things forever, but something happened while I was there. I was sitting in the backyard watching her dad potter around in the garden and then something hit me straight in the face. And no, it wasn’t an offcut of grass from the lawnmower or a fly. It was one of those moments where everything in my life was thrown under the microscope. Getting on a plane or any other sort of form of transportation and having time alone always brings out this odd sort of Caitlin who has so much perspective and wisdom that I should probably have a few more d...

I don't re member the first words we spoke to each other, but I’d like to think that at age five we were lovely and bonded over a box of crayons rather than cutting off chunks of each other’s hair. At age nineteen I sit here with a joy in my heart so forceful that I could probably (definitely) cry. She’s worked her way into every single crack of my life, embedding her name into most of my passwords, fourteen to be my lucky number, and my long-time daydream being fleeing the country with her. We’ve danced until early in the morning in different cities to bands we love and fallen asleep in a still drunken haze next to each other, midway through a serious discussion of what the fuck that noise is in the lounge room and how far away is Lilydale? Each day I fall madly in love with this ever-growing friendship. This is a lifelong thing. This is the stuff that people make movies about and everyone cries because one of them gets cancer and the other one offers...