Chasing Amy-Lou

Stirring throughout the night, unable to sleep much, my mind racing in anticipation, I awoke at 4:30am on the day of departure. The previous weekend had been filled with goodbyes, alcohol fuelled reminiscence amongst friends and family, and a few heart felt tears.
Saying goodbye to my dad was probably the hardest; he worries, as every sane parent would, but following the trauma of China in 2013 his worry runs much deeper than just superficialities. In my attempts to assure him I’ll be safe while on my Australian adventure, we’ve had many an altercation which inevitably culminated in a difficult goodbye yesterday.
Driving to the airport alongside my mother and her husband this morning though, I had time to reflect: I don’t know where my life is heading. I don’t know what to expect from the future. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m going to do. I have no concrete plan. I have no expectations. I suppose I’m just along for the ride. I cannot reassure my father that I’ll be ok and that I’ll find the right path, because I don’t know which path I’m going to take. All I know is that the road is long, and I’ll continue to travel it until I can no longer go on.
This adventure will hopefully open my eyes to so many more opportunities and experiences. I hope I can make the most from it and grab everything life has to offer.
Leaving Preston, I realised, there’s more to this world than some provincial town in north west England. There’s a whole wealth of experiences to be had. Preston will always be home, but ‘the road’ is now officially where I reside, where I live and where I will continue to live in abundance, to breathe in life, to inhale diversity and culture and colours and sounds, not just a place where I exist.
As I wander through the airport, alone, I see others jetting off on their own little adventures, to their own little corners of the world and I realise that I’m not alone at all, I’m amongst like minded people and will probably meet many like myself along the way.
I sit with a coffee in hand and breathe in the freedom. Airports remind me of a gateway to liberation, a door to the world, and this is the beginning of my liberation, my truth.
On the plane, ordering my 11am red wine, I can’t help but think that life is all about living not just being. It’s all about what we make of our time here on earth. It’s too short to squander; too short to spend worrying; too short to spend in a job that makes you unhappy; too short to sit in a town with no prospects, no escape, no way out. So, after a gruelling 23 hours in the air, I plan to do more than merely exist. I plan to live.