Two more weeks. Two more weeks before I enter into complete oblivion.
Up up and away I go...
What makes me saddest is the fact that I will not return home for about one and a half years. Mum has said that I cannot return to visit till 2015, and it's understandable seeing the rising costs of living cancel out unnecessary needs such as a plane ticket home every year. I'm excited though, and dream of spending summer vacations visiting the bunch of friends that I've promised to visit in the US, and I do so want to explore the many beauties that America has. I cannot wait to witness for myself national parks and waterfalls, amusement parks, landmarks, monuments... America. You are intriguing.
Yet, inside, I've still vowed to be my same Malaysian self. How can I never miss the same wooden double decker bed I've slept in for more than a decade, the same old room and creaky broken cupboard that held my clothes, the floral faded curtains that are torn and yet, still serviceable? How will I not miss ordering food at all the usual chinese restaurants, enjoying mamak fare, going out for a good dinner on Sundays with my family? How will I not miss the family gatherings at my grandpa's house, the dusty, rusty, ancient house that my mother grew up in and its tiny field where my cousin and I used to catch butterflies? How will I not miss the sights of Klang, the everyday familiar sights of Subang Jaya, the shopping malls? Sunway Pyramid, Empire, Citta Mall... and oh, how I will miss Subang Parade. It is like my second home. I will miss SS15, the horrific jams, the many restaurants I tried there, Taylor's College campus. I will miss SS19, my lovely neighborhood, where I once went for runs every evening, where I cycled every evening as a child with my sister and mother, and then with friends. I will miss knowing all the routes and shortcuts that connect to this alley, and to that road. I will miss all the nooks and crannies, I will miss the playground where we once fooled about. I will miss my house, my lawn, the swing, the old black creaky gate that has never changed since my parents bought the house. I will miss my car, the Christmas tree where I park it, and the other tree with its giant protruding root.
I will miss home. Very, very much.
I thought I would have plenty of time to mull over my impending departure, but now there seems no time at all to stop and take in all the memories I want to stuff and keep forever. How will Joel look like in two years? How will he have changed? Will he be lonely?
I'm also currently luxuriating in the fact I have a lovely room all to myself, along with a nice bathroom, with AC and fans and having the freedom to throw everything as I like. Argh, I am not looking forward to a room with no ceiling fans, no AC, common bathroom, and having a stranger as a roommate. Time to grow up, Esther, it seems.
During these last two weeks I will do everything I can to preserve my memory of home. I've made a little list, just to help me along:
1. Go cycling around neighborhood
2. Visit Pyramid, Citta Mall, Empire and Subang Parade(of course) one last time
3. Play my piano as much as possible
4. Enjoy my short-term privacy
5. Visit playground-- SWING!
6. Eat Klang popiah one last time
7. Pan Mee!
8. Fried rice, fried mee, fried kuey teow...
9. Visit BigHug Burger again. I must eat their burgers one last time, it's too good.
10. One final Younified meeting, and church, of course.
11. Take photos with everyone.
12. Hug Kia as much as possible.
13. Take lots of photos with Kia!
14. Pack as much memories as possible.
15. Get the frozen gelato I miss.
16. Go back to Baci?
17. Eat ALL of mum's cooking!
18. To be continued...
Not very necessary things, I believe, but it's almost all a must.
Home. I will miss you desperately.
Already getting homesick, while I'm still home! This is silly. But no matter.
It's time to power up.
Hawai'i is waiting.
But I will never, ever, forget where I come from. This, for me, is home. First home. Always.
Perhaps I am destined to be where I am always getting stuck, and staying there forever.
I once vowed that things would be better once I begin high school.
I then vowed again after I completed Form Five, that things would be very different for me once I started IBDP in Sri Hartamas.
And then I told myself that this time it would be different, once I joined the youth group at church.
I then promised myself again that things would change in CPU. I believed in myself almost all the time. I tried. I never stopped.
And yet, whether it's blind bad luck or perhaps fate, I think you know by now that I've failed miserably. Every time I tell myself I will be different, I will strive, I will work for it... I will try, it never even gets close to falling into place. Everywhere I go, everyone I meet, I merely fail at establishing proper friendships. Sometimes I believe I am cursed to be this way. Many inspirational/motivational speakers tell you that you have the power, or from Christian speakers, God has power over you if you give it to Him. They tell you all sorts of uplifting things and details that, well, is great for them, but hey, everyone's life is a different work of art. I've tried books, videos. I've tried opening up to whatever friends I actually have. I've tried going to God. Well, so much for trying, because now I believe there must be seriously something wrong with myself if I keep screwing things up like that.
Now, this isn't some pathetic self-pitying post. I'm tired of that. I'm sick of feeling sorry for myself. What I say here, at least about myself, and my 'predicaments', are matter of fact. If there was a shell I built for myself a long time ago, this would be it. It's not the best protection, but it does the job better than tears and crying and self-pitying and blaming on others.
Anyway, I watched a video where a woman said she took "this curse which was supposed to be handed to me, and turned it into a blessing", so she could touch others' life. I don't see how my terribly social awkwardness is in any way able to be a blessing. Well, unless others look at me and feel better comparing themselves to who I am. Maybe that's the sort of twisted blessing that humans might get from me.
So what is going to change even when I get to Hawaii? Who would actually accept me there? I can't even forge proper relationships with people here-- and this is supposed to be home. I can't even forge proper relationships with my own family members. If I don't even fit in here... then where do I belong? Certainly not in a new country. People tell me, "You don't know what might happen. Things are different there. Oh, don't be pessimistic. Believe that you will, and you can do it!".
Well, I'm already a nervous wreck just getting it into my head that I'm about to be thrown into a large campus with thousands of students and living with a random stranger. I'm already terribly afraid. It's not wrong to be afraid, I know, but it certainly doesn't help me in any way.
I just thought of something. I think I know where I belong. I belong in an isolated land with a dog, a cat, sheep, lambs, llamas, and other animals. Isolation. Seemingly the best word to describe me. I would describe my second name but then I did say that this wasn't supposed to be a sob post.
However, I'm tortured by the memories of my past. It's not simple to let go, when you've tried so many times and just keep falling down and gaining a fresh scar on your knee.
So now, when someone tells me to believe.... I tell them, how can I? How can I believe when every single attempt I make ends up in my own humiliation, in my own isolation? I did not belong in school. I did not belong in college. I did not even belong to my church.
I don't belong anywhere.
So, I really don't have any high hopes about myself going abroad.
I never even had any hope here in the first place.
I wouldn't count on my meagre chances anymore.
"Good friends stab each other in the front.".
-Oscar Wilde.
What is the cost of being such a friend? I suppose there is a line between being too honest, being gentle, and sugarcoating situations to the point you might as well be lying. Do others actually appreciate you being honest and speaking your mind? What if in doing so I have hurt others, and I just thought I was doing a good turn?
Truly, friendship is a complicated mess of a spider's web. It seems easy, yet it's not. I'm not the best person when it comes to making friends; new people scare me, I get nervous, I keep to myself, I don't know how to mingle. And during those times, I usually end up being the odd one out, and I'd go home and call myself a failure. So yes, that's my sob story. Everyone has a sob story of their own, but I'm trying to break out and not rely on my past. I have to try.
When they said your biggest enemy is yourself, they were more than just right. They were precise. They were exact. I find the biggest enemy in myself. Wondering, have I been a good friend? A respectful daughter? A supportive sister? An understanding girlfriend?
How do people perceive me? Arrogant? Cold? Quiet? Awkward? Strange? I have worried too much over what people think of me. What terrible mistakes have I done in the past that I should correct?
I wonder, as I previously have on my previous post, whether I have been too honest. Too much of a pusher. And even so... have I ever been supportive enough? Kind enough? Sweet enough? Loving enough? Oh, the freaking melancholy of questions and wondering!
Life is trial and error, I suppose, and lessons learnt, that is, if you do learn them.
So, perhaps I'll be a better person one day.
Someone who knows how to walk the line between honest and gentle, and brutally honest and sugarcoating lies. Perhaps I should be appreciated for it, perhaps not. i just hope I don't make irreversible mistakes that will cost me endless regret.
Needless to say, I will be leaving in a month to a completely alien country where I have heard and seen many things of, and yet, never actually experienced it.
It's almost surreal, to think that, oh my gosh, me, in America, HAWAII, really? You've been dreaming for so long that suddenly when the reality draws nearer you began to wonder whether this is actually happening.
I've said so many goodbyes the past year; and always left the airports wondering when my turn would be. Will people come to say goodbye? Will they see me off, wave at me as I head towards the boarding gate? Or will it just be my mum and my brother... and no one else?
In the end, only the real question remains: Do I matter to anyone?
That is the real question. Not fancy gifts or elaborate messages, just a hug that says "I'll miss you", a simple sentence that goes, "We'll keep in touch, won't we?", and the sight of friends and family waving goodbye from above, where I'll be walking into the second terminal and on to an unpredictable and difficult chapter of my life.
My wish would be to turn around and look behind me, right before I enter the terminal, and take with me the gazes and smiles of the people who had come to bid me adieu. After all, that is nothing more I'd want to have; that vision of my loved ones who cared enough, who loved me enough, to send me off with a final laugh at the dinner table and a simple wave from the sideline.
What more could a person ask?
Leaving the place I've called home for the past 20 years(practically all) of my life is exciting and yet incredibly daunting. Have I shown enough love and care to the people I love while I was here? Is it too late to make amends now?
In the end, we all only wish for one thing. To love and to be loved, doesn't quite cap it right. We can still love many people, but we do not necessarily show that we care.The correct phrase would be: To show the ones we love that they mattered to us; and to know that we matter to them as well.
There are a few people in my life that matter lots to me.
And if they matter so much to me, then I should show them how much I care.
What are words, when actions speak louder?
