Sometimes promises have to be broken for something bigger; something more close to home. Sometimes you don't have a choice in agreeing to a promise. Sometimes when you hesitantly make a promise, you know in your heart of heart it's not going to happen. It wasn't feasible, possible, logistical, rational, defensible or even financially-responsible to stay in Australia for a promise. I couldn't bear to break it, I felt terrible, but I knew that I had to do it. Sometimes you have to make your own decisions, hopefully with good intentions, even if they hurt people knowing absolutely that that part is not part of the main objective. Even when it appears to be selfish, there's always another side to the story that might not be regarded, that could be for the greater good if you take the time to consider it.
As it turned out, I wasn't flying out of Brisbane. When flying out of Brisbane I had to connect in Sydney anyways. And as it turned out, both my parents and I thought I would be returning to Sydney for Christmas so I had left a bag of things there I didn't need for traveling and they had mailed some Christmas presents for me. So, I had to go back no matter what. Because of my broken promise, I booked to spend two nights in Sydney to make up for it. But I don't think it was enough. Things were miscommunicated, plans were not met, and words were said. Instead, I spent most of my time wandering around Sydney as I had wanted to explore it on my own, with one last goodbye, and one last attempt of Christmas shopping before it would become Duty Free. All I could think of was going home, getting on the plane as fast as possible, seeing my parents and surprising Jess. As much as I didn't want to leave Australia, or say goodbye to the friends I had met, I just wanted to be home.