It's that time of holiday again. 

Engulfing myself in my blanket the night before and the morning itself.

Dragging my feet across the virtually clean floor.

Having breakfast with my parents on the same table.

Saying goodbye to them at the airport, and watching them leave when I go in.

Sighing at the delayed flight inside the boarding lounge.

Landing on Changi, and heading back to my hostel room.

Reminiscing of a fruitful break during the holiday, and dreading the start of school.

Spending the first night away from home with pangs of homesickness.
It's my last day home.

I've been through this, more than I have ever counted myself.

Everything is familiar, yet difficult to face as always.

This time too, it seems way harder to leave home.

What with the fact that this might be my last long holiday ever.

There will no longer be a time when I can spend literally one full month at home doing whatever I want, not at least until the furthest time in the future I can possibly estimate.

Not when this is my last year in university.

Not when I have to work after I graduate.

Not when I finally have to start growing up, and taking charge of responsibilities thrust in my way.

I detest leaving home. I still do. Every time it happens.

I will get used to it, sooner than I always believe, but I still do.

Ironically, as I turn older each year, and as I spend longer time away from home, I actually get more attached to home, and my family.

Might be due to the fact that I realise the value of them in my life. More so as I grow.

Might be due to the fact that there is always a possibility of me being permanently away from home as I head out into the workforce, with uncertain amount and number of holidays each year.

Or it might just be my own insecurities, which seems to be strangely getting stronger as I mature into adulthood.
Or it might just be the fact that I'm now living in a pure-hostel configuration, after living in apartments for all the time I've ever been overseas.
I believe it was my inner hygiene freak that treats the sharing of common facilities (especially toilets and shower cubicles) with so many people that I'm not familiar with. And with different hygiene standards too.

I believe I have a pretty high tolerance for the cleanliness level for common facilities.
But that tolerance level can only include limited number of people.
And with people I at least feel quite familiar with.



All right, enough with the ranting.
I will just suck things up for now, and bear it for another 8 more months until I at least graduate.
(Unless I decide to stay somewhere else afterwards, which is quite unlikely).
Despite my pessimistic rant, I would like to always believe that I will hold on to this entity called Hope.
I think Hope is very powerful.
And that power is probably just what I need, in a year that will be so crazy and uncertain ahead.


Peace out.