So I know it’s been a really long time since I’ve updated the blog. I know it seems a bit odd that I could do so well at updating while running myself ragged in New Zealand and then not get anything posted for the month that I’ve been in Australia. It’s been a long, rough month though, and lots of things combined to completely strip me of any will to write. Now that I don’t have an internet connection at home (and won’t until the 13th) it’s made it even more difficult to update, but I’m here, and I’m writing, and I’m getting back on track.

So, over a month ago, I stepped off the Air New Zealand flight onto Australian soil, where I plan to stay at least semi-permanently (my visa is valid for 4 years). I was thrilled to see James at the airport, since it had been quite a while and a lot had happened since I saw him off at Intercontinental in January. We went up to his parents’ on the Sunshine Coast for the weekend, and I was thrilled to see them as well. I feel like I am part of the family after knowing them for nearly three years, and it was great to get a little taste of home after traveling from hostel to hostel for ten weeks in New Zealand. Because of the Mooloolaba triathlon, we ended up going to Maroochydore for our Sunday morning coffee instead; even so, it felt normal and good to be in a routine again (even if it was someone else’s!). James and I went down to the beach at Mooloolaba later on that evening and got to see a beautiful sunset. I was experiencing quite a few emotions then; staring out across the ocean, I was missing New Zealand and the carefree life I led there, since I knew I was going to have to settle down now that I was starting work, but I was so happy just to be back in the country I love with the man I love.

The week in Brisbane was relatively calm. James made a few comments about me wanting to go out and rush around seeing things, but I really didn’t need to; besides the fact that I’ve managed to rush around and see the majority of sites within public transport distance of James’ place, I was tired and just wanted a week of relaxation. I went out and did a few things, like buying a new suitcase so I could get all the junk I sent to James over to Perth and getting my visa label stuck in my passport. The most interesting thing I did was going out with Michelle twice. The first time we met up, we went back to UQ, where I have so many happy memories of studying abroad. We had an afternoon of pizza, cosmopolitans, kookaburras, and talking, and it was great. A few days later, we tried to go eat yum cha at our usual hangout (okay, we’d only been there once, but it felt like our usual hangout at least!) only to find that it was closed…but not to worry, Michelle had a backup plan and we still got to stuff ourselves silly on dim sims and pork buns!

However, on Saturday, everything started crashing down around me. This is my personal blog, I know, but I’m not going to go into a lot of personal details, especially since I refuse to air grievances on such a public forum. Let’s just say that James broke up with me–a week after I arrived in the country that I moved to for him–and it absolutely broke my heart. I felt betrayed and more lonely than I’ve ever been in my life. Needless to say, this isn’t what I needed at all to start my new life in Australia, and it’s made the ensuing weeks incredibly difficult. I’ve been lucky to have amazing support–from my family, my awesome friends, and from James’ family, who have still made me feel like I belong in it despite James’ actions–or else I really don’t know how I’d still be here, since it’s hard not to question why I’m in a place that is nearly 10,000 miles from my family when I moved here for the one person that I trusted in enough to pick up and move across the world for…when he doesn’t want to be with me anyway.

The days following the breakup were rough, but James’ family was amazing and took great care of me. I got to see his mother and father (along with Michelle, who took me in, fed me dinner, and watched So You Think You Can Dance?  with me) on Sunday and his mother again on Monday. On Tuesday, his mother, father, and sister all came to the airport to see me off, so quite a few tears ensued. Stepping onto that plane is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, especially since more than a couple people told me that they wanted me to go to Perth but I could always get back on the plane to the US if I really wanted to. I got on the plane after giving everyone multiple hugs, bawling like I always seem to do when I get on planes in Australia. Within a few hours, my problems had been put in perspective. The man next to me was really friendly and talked to me for quite a while, trying to convince me that everything was going to be okay while giving me lots of advice on how to handle the situation; a few times, he said things that set me off and I ended up in tears once again. Then, I walked to the back of the plane only to see him talking to the flight attendants and visibly upset. He had apparently just been diagnosed with cancer yet he had sat there trying to help me solve my little problems for the first three hours of the flight. He was a really nice guy with a big cloud hanging over his head…so I spent the next few hours telling him how my father had beaten cancer and how he could beat it too. I won’t use your real name, but if you’re out there, I hope you’re fighting and you’ve had some great news. You’ll live to see your children for some time yet!

Well, my lunch break is over and I need to get back to my training. Since I don’t have internet at my new apartment, I might not get the rest of this story posted this weekend (although I’ll probably go to an internet cafe when I go shopping in the city tomorrow). If not, I’ll get it written this weekend and then post it on Monday morning. I am slowly settling in, and I do like the city of Perth, which I’ll elaborate on (and hopefully provide pictures of) soon.