Leaving

I thought leaving would be too hard, too heart breaking, too regretful. But it wasn't. It was suprisingly easy. Sure I was going to miss my family, my friends, school, and general comfortable life in Australia, but I was too excited about what was to come to be full of fear, regret and sadness. My departure from school was lame, most people clueless to the fact I was leaving for 5 months. However I had a great farewell party at home, with my best friends, family and family friends. Although I was leaving them all behind, I was leaving with the knowledge that I was loved and cared about. That made me feel all the more confident. The night before I left, I went with my three closest school friends to the city. Jumping into a Japanese photo booth, we arranged ourselves in crazy positions, grinning towards the camera. I think it's safe to say that that may have been my fondest moment with those friends. And I have it all frozen in fun adorable little photos. Later that night my best friend joined me and family out to dinner, at my favourite pizza restaurant. And then I had to say goodbye. What would it be like to not have her there when I'm on the other side of the world? I'd have so much to tell her each day, but won't be able to. Someone I use everyday for advice, to let out things I can't keep inside, to have for support. That would be one of the hardest things. But is it weird to say that I think the goodbye might have been the first time we'd hugged in the four years we'd been friends? Guess we're just not the hugging type.



My grandparents, my father's parents, joined me and my family to the airport to see me off. Having done the last of the packing that morning, my suitcase was over the weight limit. I had my fingers crossed as it was put through check-in. But it was let through, and I could breathe a sigh of relief. Not having to pull everything out, sort through it and choose what I want to leave behind in front of a long line of impatient travelers felt great. Due to my age and condition of flying alone, I was assigned an escort. My parents could relax. I purchased a new camera at duty free, a snazzy, orange, HD video, 12 megapixel, water and shock proof point and shoot. $400. But all those high tech qualities and high price didn't stop it from breaking a week later. Oh I do hope insurance can pay for the damage and I can get back my new lovely camera and start taking some photos.



Then it was time to leave. I met my escort, a man whose face I cannot remember and my fellow escortee, an old lady in a wheel chair. I hugged my brother, the first time we'd done so since we were both little kids. It even felt genuin. Then came my dad. The tightest and longest he'd ever hugged me all my life. Then my Grandad, almost tearing up. My Grannie, already in tears, like she had been since the morning. Then last of all mum, neither of us wanting to let go. I almost cried, I teared up, but staying strong so that #1, my family wouldn't get too upset and #2, I was going to be walking through international customs. I didn't want to be handing over my passport for inspection while trying to wipe away the flowing tears. Then it was really time to leave. All the time spent in preperation, all the decisions, information, questions, and agonising over the trip. And now it was down to one moment. I waved goodbye for the last time, then turned and walked through the doors.