Parallel Universe

On 20.01, I boarded a plane twice in Cairns. Once to jump out with a parachute, and once to return to Brisbane, from where I traveled to Byron Bay.

In a parallel universe, I would have the courage to throw everything away. I would quit - my job, my apartment, my belief in security, I wouldn't even pack my things and would return here with just hand luggage, maybe for a year or three or many. I would look for any job that helps me get by (maybe I could even teach) and find an apartment without a sea view (to keep it affordable). I would practice running up to the lighthouse every day at sunrise or sunset, because they are too beautiful not to look at, and because it is too hot to run during the day. I would buy a wetsuit and a surfboard because it would be worth it and find new friends with whom I could ride more and more waves. I would eat that amazing pistachio ice cream at least once a week and have Bahn Mi almost daily. I would get used to the fact that all cafés close by 2 p.m., and that's why I would drink iced lattes in the mornings. Every evening, I would wash off the sand and sunscreen from my skin, marvel at my tan, and my hair would have real beach waves. I would visit the koalas, the two playing in that tree behind Wategos Beach, and watch them eventually seek a rest when they get tired. I would look for the little wallaby in the bushes, the turtles and sharks in the bay, and the flying foxes in the sky. I would gaze at the sea and breathe, hear the waves and listen to the guitarist on the beach in the evening, worry with an admiring glance about the surfers in the high, breaking waves at Tallow Beach, and wait for one of those crabs that dig sand holes to walk over my toes. In the evenings, I would drift through the streets and soak up the sounds of the nightlife without needing to be in the middle of it. I would - unlike now - have enough energy and familiar faces around me to spend the night at the piano bar. I would stop by my surf instructor Gaz every three days (and pick up one of his silly jokes), buy a mango every second day, and think every single time about how different, how easy, how free people are here compared to home. I'm sure in a parallel universe, there is this version of me who wants to live that freedom, who has so much courage and restlessness in her, that everything else seems small by comparison, and who needs no home because home is everywhere for her. In this universe, I am not or not enough. In this one, only a small longing will remain in me for this place forever.

At the same time, there's also an excitement bubbling in me that I already know. This little bubbling in my heart, which says: 'There is so much more.' That's why I’m sitting at the airport with feet that express this feeling through bouncing and tiptoeing, watching the hands on the clock running faster than expected. Because today I say: Bye bye, Australia - hello New Zealand!