Six months ago, I decided I would move to Australia for university, and it was a pretty last minute decision - I had twenty days to pack my bags, book a flight, find an apartment, apply for a visa, set up bank accounts and the myriad of other administrative things that needed to be settled before one moves to a new city. I was unable to secure an apartment before I arrived (which meant I was virtually homeless), but I flew in anyway - and by God's grace, I managed to secure a great apartment that's located just five minutes away from the city central and from uni.
Here, I've gotten more acquainted with household chores, started to actually enjoy cooking and better yet, become a reasonably good cook (which is a miracle, ask anyone). The walls of my apartment have bore witness to its fair share of disasters (like the time my hair caught fire while I was struggling to light a @!#$&-ing candle) and victories; laughter and tears, but above all, I have found living alone to be unbelievably rewarding.
Today marks the sixth month that I’ve been in Melbourne; and all I can think of is how thankful I am for having the privilege of being here, in this wonderful and magical city.
I’m catching a flight back to Singapore in a couple of hours, and knowing that I will soon be back on home ground makes me feel both excited and nostalgic. I am not the same person as I was when I first left, but if there’s anything I’ve learnt, it’s that people may come and go, but the ones that love you never really leave.
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