(August), on a Boeing seven something, somewhere over France.

By Molly Cluney

This place is starting to grow on me - the unknown really, for all it’s worth, isn’t that bad a place to be;)

the big move

I’m here again at the start of another new chapter.  A chapter I’ve anticipated for a very long time. I sat yesterday and thought of how long I’ve patiently waited for this day to come and wondered why I hadn’t ever thought to prepare myself a tad bit better.

I’ve no idea what’s facing me and I can’t tell you if that frightens me or thrills me. Sitting here in complete uncertainty. I’m not sure I love it here.

Leaving things to the last minute is a personality trait of mine and one that, (despite lack of enthusiasm from the people around me), I don’t really plan on changing. This meant that yesterday was spent in a bit of frenzy, sorting documents and shovelling clothes into suitcases. 

With the help of my wonderful friends and father, I thought myself ready this morning at 5:30 am as we headed out the door. 

In some ways, I’m glad for the chaos my blaze attitude caused as it did at least distract me from my emotions. 

The emotions. The feelings.  The tears.

Insert everyone calling me out on another famous personality trait - the drama queen. 
But what good story ever lacked drama? 

My thoughts exactly.

So I’m afraid I can’t let mine be any different. 

Anyway,

don’t come for me, I’m the luckiest soul to be able to get to experience this (getting to travel and study abroad is a huge privilege and one I’m not taking for granted), however, that doesn’t mean I’m not heartbroken about everything I’m leaving behind. It’s not just a house, a city or friends. It’s a chapter of my life that no matter how close I get, will never be repeated.

And so if that doesn’t deserve a few tears I don’t know what does. 

They started about a week ago and continued on and off up until take off. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what I’m sad about or even if it is sadness. Sometimes I think they’re tears of some sort of relief, a sense of freedom almost. Anyway, I’ve never been opposed to a good crying session. However, the timing of these tears hasn’t been ideal. There are moments when you just really want to keep it together and exude this aura of bravery. A “look at her go” moment. Just so nobody worries about me, i.e. my Dad. 

That moment never happened to me. I’ve been a mess. (Another personality trait question mark)

Moving on isn’t easy even when it’s right. I’m sitting here typing about how I’m not sad but I’m also holding back the waterworks so the people across from me don’t think I’m a bit silly or crazy (take-off was also a tad rocky which didn’t help). 

I couldn’t be changing at a better time, I am so ready for change. I just don’t love change. I mean, does anyone? I’m so excited for my next adventure but there’s something ridiculously daunting about the unknown. 

It’s not often I sit and don’t fully know what I’ll be facing in the day ahead! I had gotten fairly comfortable in my life in Bohermore. There was never a dull second. Unpredictable but familiar.

I’ll miss that incredibly. 

Will I be able to work the metro? Will I be able to understand people? I haven’t spoken French in months. I’m surprisingly calm, is this it before the storm?

It’s strange. I’m an only child, something that doesn’t always benefit me. I struggle to share sometimes. And I love being on my own. 

But, the worst part is that, when an only child gets a taste of what it’s like to be part of a tribe, what it’s like to not be on your own, well, it’s very hard to go back. 

But, go back I will and sometimes a fresh start is what the doctor called for even if that means going solo for a while without the comfort of my nearest and dearest (who I miss terribly already but big girl pants are on and up so no turning back).

Of course, I’m not alone! I never really am! It just feels that way. Everyone is always a phone call away. (I can’t help it, I just enjoy the dramatics of a story - I bet a few souls are eye-rolling at this point - you know who you are). 

I’m being a bit contrary in this piece, all over the shop really, but I think that reflects my feelings. I’m happy and sad, relieved and anxious, scared but alive. 

I know that this is going to be one of those things I look back on and thank the universe for it all working out like this. I can’t wait to have so many stories to tell and sure, of course, an odd disposable to show from this year. I love this part of the story - the excitement, the build-up - where will this story take us?! I can’t tell you yet but if I know me and I think I do (another year of self-discovery and all that?) it’s going to be the best time of my life.

Sitting here, looking at the soft, cotton candy clouds I can’t help but feel a little guilty forever wishing to stay put - which I did many times.

Many many times.

I’m so blessed to have been handed such an exhilarating adventure. Even if I have no idea yet what that adventure is - an adventure with this level of unsureness and ambiguity doesn’t come around every day so one must capitalise and just embrace not having one iota about what I’m doing today, tomorrow or next week.

The tears are starting to feel a bit silly now.

This place is starting to grow on me - the unknown really, for all it’s worth, isn’t that bad a place to be ;)