On Tuesday I bought a one-way ticket to Melbourne, Australia. I leave on Monday.
For the few of you who read This New Town, it’s no secret Auckland and I haven’t really gotten along. Not because Auckland isn’t beautiful. Or the people aren’t extraordinarily friendly. And it’s not because my life here isn’t great on paper. I have my roommates from London, my Sam, my charming house, my incredible job at Young & Shand.
But at the risk of verbally hurling you a whiny version of my life, I’m simply not happy. Things that shouldn’t piss me off infuriate me. I miss my friends, my family. My support system here is almost nonexistent.
It’s funny what refuses to make you happy. What circumstances that, no matter how hard you try, still feel empty.
So I’m leaving. Not permanently I hope, but leaving nonetheless. And I’m leaving alone.
I have no idea how long I’ll be gone or what I’ll do. I’ve booked a hostel for two nights and after that…? Who knows.
As of right now I’m so scared, “shitless” doesn’t begin to cover it.
But I’m also excited. One of the happiest times in my life when I was backpacking solo through Europe.
And though this week has been one of the worst in the history of ever, booking my flight and arranging coffees with bloggers I’ve been dying to meet for ages and reading Time Out Melbourne has put me in a state of exhilarated anticipation. While also being in a perpetual state of oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-hurl. Hence, losing almost 3kg in just as many days.
So it’s probably about to get much more personal up in here. So I both apologize and tell you to bite me. Because one of the BEST things in the world about having a blog is the ability to share your experiences with people. And have those people share theirs back. And that, my friends, makes the world a much less scary place.