So as I sit here, in the same airport I sat in almost three years ago, drinking the same wine, contemplating life, waiting for a plane to take me to my next destination, I can’t help but feel like I’ve come full circle. Not full circle in the sense that the journey has ended and I’m back to where I started and that my experiences in Australia have been wrapped up; a tennis match I just won; a marathon I just finished, a computer game I’ve just completed; I feel as if I’ve come to the start of another adventure in a way, that my wandering and searching is perhaps, in the sense of the word, ‘physically’ over for now but metaphorically speaking, I feel that another, more important journey, once again, is only just beginning.
You see, I met someone a few weeks ago, someone who lit a fire inside me, someone who made me feel alive, who reminded me what life was all about, who made me laugh, and who made me feel safe, who made me feel relaxed and at ease with myself. And as I sit here typing this, once again drinking red wine and contemplating life, thinking how my time in Broome had pleasantly surprised me and surpassed my expectations; how it had been everything and more I could’ve dreamed of; despite the many good memories I’m taking away, I can’t stop the tears from falling. Why? Well, I feel scared about leaving; leaving the comfort of a small town, leaving the security of a family I feel I belong in, leaving a job I actually quite liked, leaving people I could envision myself forging great friendships with, leaving a country so magnificent; but most of all, leaving that someone who reignited the dwindling fire inside me, not knowing what could’ve been had I stayed, where I could’ve headed, what I could’ve become.
But then I remember that it isn’t the end. It’s never the end. Not if I don’t want it to be. So I pull out a tissue from my bag and wipe the tears away. I wash away the anxiety and breathe easy. And as I sit on Perth airport drinking red wine, contemplating life, waiting for a plane to take me to my next destination, I grab my phone and make a call. A call to someone who’s voice I find comfort in, who I feel excited to talk to. I don’t know if that someone at the end of the phone is going to change my life any more than he already has, I don’t know if he was just put here to shake me up a little and re-set me; I don’t know what the future is going to bring, all I can do is hope, and know that in talking to him I feel energised, I feel positive, and I feel like anything could happen if all we did was hope.
And as long as I have that, the hope that things can work in the right way for me, the hope that this next journey is going to be bigger and better than before, then my time in Australia hasn’t been futile: it’s been life altering and has taught me lessons; it’s taught me patience and it’s taught me kindness, it’s taught me about happiness and people, its’s taught me about friendships and letting people go, it’s taught me about comfort zones and reaching out, it’s taught me about dreams and reality, about straight talking and bullshit, about adventure and lifestyle, about freedom and challenges; it’s made me appreciate sunsets and sunrises, stars and stillness; it’s taught me to take chances and seize opportunities, it’s taught me about love and loss, it’s taught me about heartbreak and fear…and as I sit here hoping that something good could well be on the horizon, I realise that my time in Australia, well, it’s been worth every last second.
Chasing Amy-Lou 