Moving on and staying put

As I've said before, living in Spain, you're used to saying goodbye. There aren't many who come here with the intention of putting down permanent roots. You'd think that after a while you'd get used to it, but you don’t – you still get that little sad flower pushing up shoots through the soil of your happy everyday existence.

This week I had to say goodbye to my longest-standing and closest work friend, Rachel – a girl I've seen almost every working day, (bar holidays and sick days of course) over the last nearly three years. And now suddenly I won't see her anymore.

She'll still be working for our company, in the London office. But it just won’t be the same. I’ll miss sharing the morning cup of tea with her, I’ll miss moaning about work and will have to just keep it to myself when I find something really interesting or gross when I'm scouring the papers first thing in the morning. Most of all I'll just miss her.

It's hard to pin point the moment when your work colleagues pass the point of just being someone you see every day and move into the happy territory of being your friend. But somewhere along the way, many of them just do.

Being outside of England, and working with Brits means you feel bonded together – the group of away fans sat in the home seats - more than people in your average office would. You have immediate shared ground. you go from lamenting the loss of pickled onion Monster Munch to moaning about amount of red tape there is when you want to do something like renewing your passport.

But all the time you're all just patting yourselves on the back for managing to live in Spain. All of it gives you a sense of togetherness.

And on top of this, in our office, we've lived some shared experiences we won't ever forget. I know I’ve cried on Rachel’s shoulder a few times, and she's returned the favour. We both started around the same time, though all of that is in the past now.

At her leaving lunch we were each theorising about what our next moves would be. One girl is toying with the idea of going home to do an MA, one says she feels things have to change for her and her German husband and their two kids, and she's fighting the idea that sooner or later they'll end up leaving.

Me, this is it for me now. This is my home, full stop. And much though I once thought that would scare me, it doesn't. When I first left England I had ideas of going to live in South America. To teach English in Japan maybe for a good few years. And while I might visit those places now I know I won't live in them.

Madrid is where I've put down roots. I've got my bloke - whose family are now my family - my lovely friends, and even my little dog Dani. And one day, hopefully sooner than later, I'll start my own family here.

It's not so much that 'this is it', but rather that 'this is my happily ever after'.