It’s no wonder that I need to find a new place to live… every street, corner, restaurant, and public place in Canberra is filled with memories and ghosts of my past. I can’t be anywhere without thinking about every different event (however insignificant), about all the different people who have come and gone, and the meaning that those memories have to me.

I can drive around and feel other people in the car with me, and hear again all the various conversations that we’ve had. And all the different ways that I’ve pondered them since.

It’s nice to remember things so intimately, but it’s suffocating.