I'm in the foyer, 90 Collins Street, Melbourne.
Melbourne reminds me a bit of London. Eclectic, cloudy. There are similar trees.
I'm shaking. Maybe because I was up before 6 am and haven't eaten propery since then. But I think it's more than that.
Being here, now, is a significant step in the process that will change my life. It's strange that, as the indecisive person I am, I have not once doubted my decision to go to London. I'm calm. Confident. Even when people tell me that I'm being brave - words that seem calculated to send me into a panic - I easily brush the remark off.
I don't know why this feels so right, but I hope it's a good thing. A God thing. I hope that still, always, he stands next to me, with me, in me.
I'm not a brave person. I fear heights, exams, reality. I make decisions quickly or not at all. I fear the consequences of a poor decision, fear my inability to deal with those consequences.
Yet in some bizarre twist, this, the most life-changing decision I've ever made, the one that could potentially have the most difficult consequences, this decision sits well with me. It may be a mistake. But I don't mind that thought. It doesn't torment me as it usually would.
Perhaps my confidence is foolhardy, or perhaps I'm finally, finally growing up. Or perhaps God is as near to me as I always want him to be. Despite my everything, because of my everything. Because he knows I need him there always, even when I think I don't, especially when I shout at him to go away. Always, interminably, perpetually, by my side.
My watch ticks over to 10.42 am. It's time to go to the elevator. It's time to go to London, time to change my life, to stand as near to God as he is standing to me. Time to change.