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.
"How was your flight? Are you jet lagged at all?" She asked on the other end of the line. "I slept during a good bit of the flight, I'm not too jet lagged right now, but it'll probably set in soon."
"Have you been to the beach yet? Have you been grocery shopping yet?" I shook my head for both questions, even though I knew she couldn't see me. "No to both. I was just about to go grocery shopping, actually, but I got distracted on the balcony."
I could almost see her making a face at my irresponsibility, considering I literally don't have any food in my apartment. "Maddi, quit being lazy and go get food," she said in a joking tone. My mom and I have always had a relationship where we picked on each other almost more often than we were actually affectionate. The phone call only lasted for a few more minutes until we hang up. Since I still didn't have a car, I'd have to get another Uber.
~ ~ ~
I walked aimlessly around the store with my buggy. Apparently they say shopping trolley here, which doesn't even sound right to me. My parents always did most of the shopping when I lived with them, so I was nearly clueless on what to get for food.
I got the essentials like paper towels and water, but a decent amount of junk food, at least until I could find recipes that would make me shop for decent ingredients. I'd been optimistic and sat the unrealistic expectation to actually cook for myself tonight, but instead, I decided I'd order a pizza. Cooking would be too much of a hassle for my first night here.
I'd paid for my groceries and left with around four or five bags, plus a pack of paper towels that I'd hooked under my arm. Apparently I'd underestimated how difficult it'd be to take groceries up to an apartment on the fourth floor, even though I was taking the elevator.
I stood in the elevator with my groceries, and a tall, handsome guy that had to be around my age, entered the elevator when I reached the second floor. It was completely silent, although I wanted to speak. My own brain was practically screaming at me to just say hello, simply to avoid awkwardness, but I was far too shy to even open my mouth.
Thankfully, he seemed to have read my mind and spoke first so I wouldn't have to. "Do you need help carrying those?" He asked as I glanced down at the groceries that I seemed to have forgotten I was carrying. I politely smiled and shook my head to say no, although I wanted to accept his offer. He nodded his head and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Well, it was really just an excuse to walk you back to your apartment, since elevator rides are too short for a decent conversation." I smiled at his statement before agreeing to let him take a couple bags out of my hands. I noticed his accent seemed to differ from those that I've already heard here. "Are you originally from Australia?"
Sarcasm laced his words when he responded "yes, actually. I'm practically a kangaroo. I happen to play the didgeridoo as well," he said in a more joking tone, so I laughed along. He continued before I could ask where he actually came from. "I'm originally from Redditch in the U.K., I assume you're from America, unless you're really good at faking an accent."
I nodded my head in response. "I just moved here from Michigan." He hummed and nodded before asking the question, "what made you want to move?"
"Well, considering I didn't go to college, and I'm not even sure what I wanna do in the future, I figured a fresh start would do me some good. A new environment seemed like a decent way to spark some motivation. Why'd you move?" I replied as I looked up at him.
I had to slightly crane my neck to get a good view of him. As I awaited an answer, I realized we'd reached the door to my apartment. "Looks like our conversation has ended short. I guess that means you'll have to give me your number so we can agree to meet up sometime, assuming you'll still want the answer to your question."
I think shock hit me. Or maybe it was the jet lag finally setting in. I hope I didn't seem rude or hesitant, it was just odd having a guy ask for my number. I just nodded my head in response, as I felt unable to actually speak. He sat my groceries down to get his phone and I quickly typed my number. I was tempted to put a seemingly cocky contact name for myself, but I just went with my name.
He took his phone back and looked at the contact information. "Well, it's been nice meeting you, Maddi. I'll text you soon." He said as he turned on his heels to walk back towards the elevator. "Wait, I didn't get your name," I called out to him. He briefly turned to look back at me before saying, "I'm Harry." And with that, he disappeared into the elevator.
I grabbed my groceries and began putting them away. I think the jet lag was finally starting to set in, because I couldn't seem to get to my bed quick enough. You know how in a lot of books, they always say something along the lines of "they were my only thought, and my truest passion?" because that's exactly how I felt over my bed right now.
Before I could reach the comfortable bed covered in soft sheets and multiple pillows, I felt my phone vibrate in my hand. I looked down to see a text from an unknown number, which was asking when I was available to hear the answer to the last question I asked. I replied that I was free all day tomorrow, which I later realized probably made me sound like a loser.
And with that, I fell asleep to the faint sounds of the ocean, just outside my window.