Because everything that matters goes away
Four years ago, this is who I was, and who was important:
(warning: extensively long picture post)
“I’m so kicking you out of our lets-complain-about-our-weight-issues-club”
“I'm not ready to leave. Not when I'm just starting to discover home. And what it means to me. And who makes it home. I've spent my life hearing about "home," spent half of it trying to find it (or even define it!), and only just started to get it. I want it. I want it so badly. A home. A place. I don't have to live there. I just have to have one. I need a place to belong, a person to belong to (not necessarily romantic), a place I want to belong.
"I have that here. I mean, I don't quite belong here (as my uber-paleness shows), but life here is nice.
"I'm really regretting going back to the US and not applying to Australia. I might try to transfer...at the very least, it's cheapest. It's also closer to family, to friends, to home. Honestly, I don't want to be half a world away from the place and people I love.
"I feel like I've exiled myself. I mean, I know I'll like Mary Washington. I'm sure I will. I think. That's about as certain as I am. I'm positive. I think. It's just SO FAR AWAY. Even moving to Thailand I didn't feel like this (I also thought I'd be going back after four years). But this is so...final. *Poof* gone. It's crazy.
"So many people are cool with going back. It's going home for them. Other people aren't going home, it's just another move. Another new country. For me...I've been out so long it's ALMOST another country, but not quite. I still have those memories, you know? Being a kid and playing and the neighbours and the customs and all sorts of things...but over here it's different. Over here it's not about being carefree and playing. Here has been about work and relationships and life and love and discovering myself and developing who I am. It hasn't been about knocking on doors until somebody could play on a Tuesday afternoon, or riding my bike 2 streets over. It's been about taking the MRT to visit friends and their family, saying good-bye, meeting people, falling in love with people and places and things. Being me.
"This doesn't feel like cold feet. This feels like suicide.”
Funny how things change. I was reading old entries, and my heart started to hurt when I read about leaving Singapore. And my heart hurt for the girl who had her heart broken.
Funny how things don't change at all, sometimes, too.
(warning: extensively long picture post)
“I’m so kicking you out of our lets-complain-about-our-weight-issues-club”
“I'm not ready to leave. Not when I'm just starting to discover home. And what it means to me. And who makes it home. I've spent my life hearing about "home," spent half of it trying to find it (or even define it!), and only just started to get it. I want it. I want it so badly. A home. A place. I don't have to live there. I just have to have one. I need a place to belong, a person to belong to (not necessarily romantic), a place I want to belong.
"I have that here. I mean, I don't quite belong here (as my uber-paleness shows), but life here is nice.
"I'm really regretting going back to the US and not applying to Australia. I might try to transfer...at the very least, it's cheapest. It's also closer to family, to friends, to home. Honestly, I don't want to be half a world away from the place and people I love.
"I feel like I've exiled myself. I mean, I know I'll like Mary Washington. I'm sure I will. I think. That's about as certain as I am. I'm positive. I think. It's just SO FAR AWAY. Even moving to Thailand I didn't feel like this (I also thought I'd be going back after four years). But this is so...final. *Poof* gone. It's crazy.
"So many people are cool with going back. It's going home for them. Other people aren't going home, it's just another move. Another new country. For me...I've been out so long it's ALMOST another country, but not quite. I still have those memories, you know? Being a kid and playing and the neighbours and the customs and all sorts of things...but over here it's different. Over here it's not about being carefree and playing. Here has been about work and relationships and life and love and discovering myself and developing who I am. It hasn't been about knocking on doors until somebody could play on a Tuesday afternoon, or riding my bike 2 streets over. It's been about taking the MRT to visit friends and their family, saying good-bye, meeting people, falling in love with people and places and things. Being me.
"This doesn't feel like cold feet. This feels like suicide.”
Funny how things change. I was reading old entries, and my heart started to hurt when I read about leaving Singapore. And my heart hurt for the girl who had her heart broken.
Funny how things don't change at all, sometimes, too.