Have I mentioned that I’m moving out of home? No? Well, I am. In fact, I’m moving some 800 kilometres from my home, to a trendy metropolis called Melbourne. Perhaps you remember my post Melbourne Is Cool, And Apparently I’m Not? No? Well, Melbourne is this super cool city and I’ve decided that I’m now cool enough to live in it. (I’ll be sure to let you know how that goes in due course.) So, I leave this Sunday. 2 sleeps.
Over the past few weeks I’ve experienced a range of heavy emotions:
3) Get me the fuck out of this house and away from my parents
4) How do I iron a collared-shirt?
5) I’m a strong independent woman who don’t need no
6) How much does electricity cost?
7) Will my sister kill my mother without me there to intervene?
But for the first time this morning I experienced something quite different, and it’s the fault of a man named Wally:
You see, Wally kindly turned up this morning to drive my belongings to Melbourne. Though I only knew Wally for a short half-hour, he made a wonderful impression. He cracked a number of jokes about my getting up to trouble in Melbourne, and we became quite good friends.
However, as dear Wally loaded my bed onto his enormous truck, I cried. I wasn’t exactly sobbing per se, but I was somewhat of a blubbering mess. Poor old Wally didn’t know what to do; I suspect due to his general discomfort that it was his first girl-crying experience. As I stood in the driveway, tears pouring down my cheeks, Wally busied himself with my boxes and pretended not to realise; I am thankful, for both our sakes.
Thanks to Wally, the reality of my move has finally sunk in. In fact, it’s hit me smack bang in the face. I am actually moving out of home. Not next year, not next week, but on Sunday. I’ve bought a one-way plane ticket to Melbourne. I don’t know when I’ll be home next. In fact, home won’t even be home anymore. I might not see my sister or my parents for months. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely excited – but there are things and people I’ll miss dearly, and this morning I realised.
Sorry Wally, I don’t blame you; my tears were bound to arrive soon enough. Thank-you for helping me to get them out of the way. I’ll see you at the other end, in Melbourne. I hope that my belongings arrive in one piece. If not, there will be tears…but this time they’ll be yours. Drive safe, Wally.