#goingitalone

On my way to the first of my last shift rotation before departure. Nerves are really taking hold now. I’m anxious to get on with it as the waiting is just giving my imagination more time to come up with more rubbish scenarios. I keep thinking maybe alone was too bold of me. Maybe I need a heavier sleeping bag. And the list goes on.

The stress of making sure I have everything I need is dier and I know I’ll settle on friday morning when none of it matters anymore as if I’m without it then ill have to make do.

So my first solo trip is in 10 days and I’m not ashamed to say I am getting more scared and apprehensive by the day.  As I type this I am sitting in my lovely little coffee shop that I live above researching where I am going a little more to try and make sure I at least have some idea of things I might want to see or things to do. I have been to Penang and Langkawi before which should make it easier or so I thought, but now I am not sure! What if I don’t meet anyone at the hostels I have booked into? What If I am a loner for all 7 days and no one talks to me or I am to chicken to talk to anyone!? What if I have some major disaster all by myself.

While in the past year I have spent substantial amounts of time on my own and I generally am fairly happy in my own company, this feels different. There is I know a part of me that is excited to try it alone as in the past I have always been with people (mainly with my ex but last year my sister and later a friend when I went to Taiwan). The organisational side I am fine with it’s the worry that if things go wrong or don’t meet my expectations what will I do? with two you can laugh it off or think of a solution as you are ‘in it together’ by myself there will be just me. Maybe it’s just reinforcing my currently feelings of being a little lonely and sad that I don’t have anyone to share these experiences with anymore.

I know I am a strong independent woman and I can do anything I set my mind too. Living in Vietnam for the past year by myself proves that in many ways I am capable of more than I ever thought. I can and have done many things by myself and still been able to feel happy and content. The problem lies that I love sharing my life with someone else. I’ve recently started to wonder how I actually feel about my ex these days as it doesn’t feel so clean cut as it used to (in the past I would have said that I still loved him and missed him more than anything). I think the change is because I don’t miss him exactly anymore I know I can do better and I want more for my life. He isn’t the same person I thought he was and maybe I’m not the same person either. Either way I think I just miss the comfort that came from being with a person I thought was my best friend and the love of my life. I miss not necessarily the big things but all the small ones that at the time I think you take for granted. I miss having someone to share all the small silly things with, such a when you see a stupid sign where the English translation is ridiculous and start to laugh and want to point it out but you can’t as there is no one there. I miss having someone at home to tell what happened in my latest class, or just being there content and happy just to chill out together with no expectations or awkward silences. Overall having someone there for highs and lows who is more than just a friend or a member of family.