After 34 years.
Specifically 50 Cambridge Street.
Thank goodness!
34 long years. May be a bit too long, I must admit, but life has a cruel way of manifesting itself. Move on; experience new life, meet new people. Leave all the pasts behind.
Yeah, the more un-romantic way of looking at things. Not me; I don't look at things in that manner.
Truth be told - I did not have the opportunity to return. Life conspired against me returning when I could still recognize things. Ideally, time should have stood still (for me). Everything would be still be intact. The landmark; the streets, the school and the house that we rented.
It would really be a walk down memory lane. I probably would still see and meet the younger me.
[sniff, sniff - pass me the tissue please] LOL
But 34 years old is a bit too long not to see someone. From a slim 18 year old boy, I now have white hairs, on the good side of me. On another side, I have none. I am over half a decade mark now. I have a big gut now, of course. She would not recognize me at all in this state.
But I am not alone in growing old. She did too.
And I can hardly recognize her. She in her own way has expanded a lot - on all sides of her. From a slim her, she has overgrown her much. I am not sure I like her in this state. I certainly could not recognize her anymore.
Of course there are traits and names I still recognize. Mitchell Freeway, West Leederville, Oxford Street, Bourke Street.
And of course Cambridge Street.
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| Combo pix of me in front of Cambridge Court in1981 with my roommate and in 2015 with Arif and Akmal |
Specifically 50 Cambridge Street.
This is the apartment I nearly burnt down, while cooking my rice on the stove. It is still intact. It is every way that I can remember. Exactly the way I would remember them.
Walking down Cambridge St, crossing the Mitchell Freeway and walking along Oxford Street to Leederville Teh. I'll alwyas remember that.
On weekend, we would visit our seniors at the University of Western Australia in the suburbs of Nedland/Crawley. Of course posing at the Swan River would be a must, especially with the yacht in the background.
That's me and friends in 1981 at 18, and the boys in 2015 in their early twenties.
At last, the romance of Perth (in my mind) is gone. It is still a nice and beautiful city; that I have to acknowledge.
But the romance is no longer there. Sort of. I am free at last.
Thank goodness!
