I am sitting at the airport as I write this, with exactly 40 minutes until I board the plane. I am off to see Singapore, not for the first time. I mean, it’s not the first time I’m going to that country, because I was there six years ago, but it is the first time I’m actually off to another country alone.
It’s exciting and scary, and I can’t stop feeling the little butterflies in my stomach when I think of the possibilities that await me in this adventure.
It’s not that I will be completely alone there. I’m meeting some friends, who had gladly agreed to host me while I was there. We’re off to do some things tomorrow, and I’m excited and scared. Excited to see them, and see the new places, and scared, because this is new, and I am not from there, and I don’t know. It’s just all so new.
I sit here, and think of how this trip feels so significant. A couple of months ago, I remember how I sat at home and watched the clock, waiting. I remember the blankness of everything, the fear, and how I feel like I am about to jump off a cliff, with no guarantee of ever landing safely. It was crazy and scary and sad and amazing all at the same time. My life had changed from that, and I try to remember how I was back then, just a couple of months ago, and I smile.
I do that often now. I look back, and try to see how I was then to how I am now. I look back, and I tell myself, Look where you were before, and Look where you are now. It doesn’t seem too long, but it feels that way sometimes, and I smile, because I never knew. And I think the not knowing makes it even more interesting.
But I don’t look back for too long. I look back, I smile and then I look forward again. Always, always moving forward. Because it’s the only way to go. :)
I sit here, alone, but I won’t be alone for long. I sit here, and look around, listen to the people, and write. I sit here, and I am thankful, because I never thought I’d be here. I’m excited and scared, and it’s okay. Because if there’s one thing I learned in the past 9 months of this year of the brave, it’s that the best things happen when you choose to do things even if they’re scary. It makes the exciting part a little more exciting when you do things even if you’re scared. Right?
My backpack is broken. I bought this backpack for traveling purposes, but I put too much stuff in today, and I thought it was strong enough to carry the load. Apparently, it’s not. I saw the strap is about to break before I bought food, and now that I’m sitting here, waiting for boarding, I see this hole at the bottom, torn from the load of the stuff inside the bag.
I could curse at the hassle or just laugh about it and chalk it up as a part of this adventure. I choose the latter. What else can I do anyway? :) I’m going to trust that the bag will hold itself until I get to my destination. (Please Lord.)
There is too much drama in this post, I know, but I feel like there should be one drama post for the first time someone travels alone. So here. :) I’ll see you all when I get back. Or when I find time to write while I’m there. Pray for our safe flight? :)