Chambord Lemonade. I’ll Miss You.
Life is tough, so said an annoyingly loveable smarty pant.
It is so tough that it must take a nasty down turn when you think life is peachy and you could have died happy.
Mine happened. And so here I am, having chips and coke alone at the International Airport waiting for my 3-hour delayed flight.
If “tough” did not happen, I would probably just got off work about half an hour ago and head out for dinner and movie – the usual boring routine – with friends.
Looking back, it is pleasantly boring.
This week had been spent with teary blessings. Having to bid farewell to a huge part of your life isn’t easy – a part that have shaped you into an individual with your very own desires, purpose and dreams. A part that belongs to you and only you.
It ain’t easy.
A few strangers that I came across the past three days had been telling me the same thing: I am a brave young girl who dares to embark on new adventure alone. I smiled because it is nice to be assured, even when you know it isn’t all true.
The truth is, I’m not brave. It is just the naiveness and stupidity and I’d like to call them Dutch Courage but intoxicated with ignorance. It isn’t bravery, it’s more of solitude.
The truth is, I am running away from reality. I am refusing to go back and face expectations. I am reluctant to man up and do what’s right by everyone’s definition.
So I decided to travel. I decided to fly to New Zealand. I decided to tick off a few other things on my bucket list. I guess ticking off the items on your list is like a reassurance – that if you could do these crazy, crazy nerve wrecking things; that if you could finally materialise the things you want to do after a long anticipation; that if you could live the day when you do all the things you want to do since young – you could do just about anything else.
Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Everything had been hasty. Because I am scared, for not knowing “what’s next?” . For not able to answer everyone else. For the sudden sense of loosing a purpose. Because I am scared, for loosing track of a dream I had been weaving.
Travel. Is also an excuse to run away, until I am fit to deal with the O-so-tough-bitchy life again.
Just a bit off the track – airports should be a little more solo traveller friendly. Like, being able to leave my bags aside and not getting confiscated by the airport police while in the washroom. Such is my first experience with Air New Zealand – bummer.