Living away from Home

I always thought being blessed with a family was the best thing that could ever happen to me. I always thought that no matter how the western idealism promoted, living with my family would be a great value and tradition to hold on to. I remember a promise I made to myself "I would keep my family together. I would not let it fall apart like alot of families do, no matter what." So obviously all my life after that self vow, I have always believed it and worked towards achieving that goal. So far so good.

And then one day....

It was time for me to leave home. As i prepared to leave, I gave away some of my things and threw away alot of junk I've collected over the years. It was as if unconsciously preparing for an absense of a lifetime. I don't know why, but that was how it felt. When I left home, I also left behind a partner, parents, sisters, brothers, nephews and friends. There were mixture of emotions floating around me as my departure came near.

And then one night...

It was time for me to leave. Saying goodbye was difficult but in a way easier than I thought. I checked in, breezed through customs and boarded the plane, that would take me to my destination, Perth, Western Australia. It was after I boarded the plane i realised my safety net - my family was not going to be there with me every step of the way. Not even my partner. That realisation was a bittersweet sensation.

It took me a few minutes to get settled and to dismiss the feeling of loneliness. I make friends easily and soon I made a friend who kept me company all the way to Malaysia. That morning we boarded seperate flights. She was off to Tasmania (also part of australia) and me to Perth.