Temporary Beach

Chapter One

The thought of moving out of my parents house was enough to nearly give me a panic attack, let alone the thought of moving to a different country. But, here I am, at only 23 years old, on the way to my new apartment complex in Geraldton, Australia. 

Geraldton is a coastal city, and my complex happened to be right on the beach. Geraldton is well known for being a good place for windsurfing, which I was excited to get into. I'd attempted surfing once or twice a while back, but never windsurfing. 

I'd gotten an Uber to take me to the complex, since I didn't have a car yet. Driving in general always made me anxious, but that's heightened now, considering I'll have to learn to drive on the other side of the road. 

Geraldton was stunning, and I'd only seen glimpses of it from the backseat of a car. I'd already began daydreaming of all the places to explore in the unfamiliar city. However, I was snapped out of my daydream once we arrived at the apartment complex. I'd only brought a few suitcases, since the apartment was already furnished. 

I thanked the driver for helping me get my luggage out of her car, and soon enough, I was in my new home. I walked into each room, being sure to spin around to admire my unfamiliar, yet comforting, surroundings. There were two bedrooms, but since it's just me living here, I'd most likely end up turning the spare room into my art room. The kitchen was entirely white with stainless steel appliances - which, didn't matter too much, since I don't cook too often. 

Pretty much everything in the apartment was white, except for a few light blue accents, probably for a more beach vibe. I walked out onto the balcony to admire the new view. Since it's December, the weather back in Michigan is entirely opposite. Here, it's a warm, bright summer day. If I were back in the states, I'd be throwing on layers of clothing. I can practically hear my mothers voice now. 

Speaking of which, I need to call her to let her know I've arrived safely. She's never been strict, but she'd obviously want to know that her child is okay, considering I've just moved to a different continent. 

I looked out to the ocean as I inhaled its briny scent. That was almost the only thing I loved about the ocean. I enjoyed the feeling of waves washing over my feet, or a wave gently crashing against my thigh, but I loathed the idea of actually swimming in the ocean. As much as I loved the beach, the ocean happened to be one of my biggest fears. I'm not fond of anything unknown, truthfully. 

I don't like the dark, because I'm unsure of what's lurking, completely unknown to the naked eye. Driving makes me anxious because I'm unaware of everyone else's intentions - they could easily swerve into my lane and crash. I'm petrified of death, because I don't know the outcome. 

And love is complex. I think it's a beautiful thing, really. But it's an unknown feeling for me. Sure, I love my family and friends. I have an immense love for animals and art. However, I've never been in love. The feeling of being utterly in love with someone, and letting your infatuation wash over you, is unfamiliar in my mind. 

I could easily say I'm in love with the boy running across the beach. I could rant about how obsessed I am with his hair that's moving with the wind. I could go on about how much I adore his tattoos. But, I'm obviously not in love with him, it's just easy to say. And that's another scary thing about love - they could easily lie and say they're in love with you, when they don't truly mean it. 

My long string of thoughts was interrupted by my phone ringing. I was enjoying my time alone on the balcony so much, that I was hesitant to answer it. But it was my mom calling, so I felt an obligation to answer it. Plus, it's just nice to talk to your mom. I half expected her to be upset that I didn't let her know I was safe, but she seemed fine.