Suddenly I was homesick. I longed to see my mother’s face… to hold my sister’s hand… to hear my father’s voice. I was empty because I felt like I was ripped away from a tight group and left alone.
I was engulfed by a darkness that had no beginning nor an ending… and as I was zoomed away to a tiny dot, I realized what a minuscule part of the universe I really was… it was a time when the faraway seems near and the near seems far away.
So there I stood, with my wretched choice in my limp hand. Oh, how I ached to let go of it, to let myself become a victim of the faith. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t holding on to it because I was afraid of what other people might say about me, this spoiled girl with her first-world-problem…
It didn’t feel like I had much to add to the world anyway, so I wanted to quietly fade away. But I continued to breathe… because it seemed I didn’t even have the energy to stop breathing.
Why am I holding on to this life? Part of it is pride. I don’t want to be seen as a “failure”, a little girl who couldn’t hold out “adulthood”. Part of it is uncertainty… because I’m not at all sure my prospects will become better if I packed and left now. Sometimes I detest the circumstances that brought me here. All I wanted was a simple, quiet and ordinary life. Or so I thought when I was ten years old. Ten years later I am alone, even my immediate future uncertain, and I am growing afraid of the sound of the rain that I used to love so much – that used to be my favorite sound in the world.
The homesickness I feel is my mourning for something that used to be my home. I don’t have anything to anchor me anymore, except for the people I love – my homesickness is for them. I long to see my family. I want to feel their comforting arms around me even if they are thinking all the while how foolish I am being.
It’s really so hard being a human… to feel all the feels and somehow not to crumple and exhale the last breath…