It was a glorious Friday night (possibly because I recently had my hair done and the world seems that fraction better when you have perfect hair) and there were exactly eight days until Anna's boyfriend arrived in Australia. To celebrate this future joy (and to enjoy some quality one-on-one girl time) we went to dine at Burton Restaurant.

Burton Restaurant hides just behind Oxford Street, though is completely tucked away that you wouldn't know it. The outdoor tables are settled amongst leafy trees and warm lights, and the interior glows with unassuming wooden furnishings and white linen.

We gave the waiter (the staff are extremely gracious, welcoming and relaxed) our two bottles of red wine and began to look over their simple yet appetising (and surprisingly affordable) menu. But our focus soon drifted away from where we were in the restaurant and floated over to where we were in life.

So much had changed for us in the last year...both of us had travelled, questioned our careers, moved homes, tested friendships and fallen in love to men who were living in different countries. Luckily enough, although we never knew where - we both knew that despite the changes that came, we would always find the time to sit over a meal and contemplate them together.

As we shared a dozen natural oysters (which were a little too warm and furry for my liking) we also shared thoughts over Gabe's arrival (she met the mysterious Canadian in Honduras almost a year ago...emotions flared and although Anna returned to Australia only weeks later, they decided that what they had was the real deal and thus stayed committed to each other until he could leave it all to come live in Australia...as you do), the past and the future.

By the time my seafood risotto arrived (which really was very good...not as good as a mushroom one I once cooked...that was an INCREDIBLE risotto...I can still vividly recall the hint of dry white wine that flavoured the mushrooms and rice...accentuated more by the fact that I served the same white wine in a glass so that each mouthful of food was followed by a complimenting mouthful of wine...in fact it was SO incredible that even though my family and friends have forbidden me to discuss it...I have held the memory in my mind forevermore and consequently refuse to cook it again for fear of ruining such perfection...mmm...) my mind had begun musing over many thoughts.

We all go through changes. Some of these we have no control over (for example, although it may be quite relaxing to live inside a womb and be intravenously fed...it's just not feasible to stay in there), and others are a result of our choices. I guess the challenge we face is being able to decide which memories of our previous phase we take into the new one, and similarly, which ghosts we leave behind.

By the end of our meal our stomachs were filled with food, and the air was filled with our talks of ghosts and cherished memories. As we paid our bill and said goodnight, the only thing we chose to leave behind was an unfinished bottle of red wine.