6 years ago, I spent my 18th birthday on the plane alone to
Melbourne. I had a backpack that was half of my size with my laptop in it and a
freaking electric guitar on one shoulder. I nearly killed myself as I walked
through the long airport hallway. At 18, I would never have a second thought about anything. I
thought wearing graphic tees and denim all the time was cool. I had this horrible
haircut. Guitars and Korean dramas were the life of me.
I'm 24 this year and I'm the complete opposite from the 18-year-old me who just got to Melbourne. Even a small little handbag weighs a tonne on my shoulder (god knows how did I handle the guitar and laptop back then) and I am no longer as innocently courageous as before. As I am typing this, I am sitting in the
middle of my super messy room waiting for a buyer to pick up my unwanted piece
of furniture. The reason for my departure is because I haven't gotten the
Australian Permanent Residency visa's invitation from the Australia government,
so I'll have to go back and wait offshore.
