The teenager I never was.

Travelling through country towns has been quite the experience. I'm not a big city girl, especially after witnessing the hectic pace of Sydney's CBD, but I'm a city girl nonetheless. The job I have right now doesn't allow much time for proper sightseeing. We usually work in a town for a few days and hit the road again immediately. So when my South Australian boy and I get the chance we always grab the van and drive off in search for adventure while the rest of the boys chase after small-scaled nightlife.

Bonding through our casual use of pot and our appreciation of nature, we caught the sunset and then drove deep into the Mirima National Park in Kununurra, WA with the pretense of an attempt to find "Candy Mountain". Equipped with a pillow and blanket, we climbed onto the roof of the van, lay on our backs, and let the stars shrink us in size.

I (of all people) taught him how to find the Southern Cross, we made up constellations, we laughed, and we fell silent. And then we kissed.

I think of all my first kisses. They all carry nostalgia in some way, but I can't believe a five minute drive led me somewhere so beautiful. So, I envy those growing up in places like these. I've found more romance atop a six-seater Hyundai in the middle of a forest (or in the middle of a beach) than a dark closet full of clothes. And maybe it's because mSAb is seventeen, maybe it's because of where we are, or maybe it's because of both, but for once I felt like a teenager.

And maybe it's just fantasy. Maybe it's in my head. Or maybe it's in the moment and that's where I love to live; and somehow I find it much easier to do when you aren't distracted by the chaos of highrises and bright lights.