15th
Fifteen days of travelling really drains a person. I remember tugging my luggage out on the 1st, wondering what had possessed me to arrange back to back holidays and think I'd survive it all. Then as the weather threatened to turn Europe back to December like conditions, I just got more sian. But at the end of the fifteen days, a small part of me wishes I could turn it all back. It felt like I picked up my family members slowly - first parents and brother, then sister, then aunt, uncle and cousin. And it felt like I could repair relations I hadn't been watering very well slowly, step by step, member by member. All for the best. This truly feels like preparation to return home. For good.
Ugh. Damn these transitions. Today when my aunt's mother-in-law said goodbye to us, she burst out into tears. My aunt explained that despite having only met us for one hour or so, she hated goodbyes and it didn't matter if she was changing a gardener or moving to a different country, she'd cry all the same. We're not that different, I suppose, in that matter. She's not the only one who hates goodbyes. So when my aunt later asked me if I'd miss Hamburg, I said yes. When my sis asked me if I would miss London, I said yes. I can't exactly pick out what about it I would miss, we had little sunshine, it was mostly cold and windy, and I have enough sausages/salami to last me the year. I spent most of my London years in wintry conditions, worrying about unwashed bedsheets and undone tutorials, cursing on a Sunday night when I couldn't find food that was fast and convenient ending up starving and then later binging on macdonalds breakfast after. I thought what I'd miss most was the people, which I suppose is true, except that most of the people I'm going to miss are already back home. And the true separation comes in September when they all fly back to the colder part of the universe and I sit in Singaporean sweltering heat. I'm going back to Singapore soon for good and I should be feeling excited but the elation is not as high as I thought it'd be. I guess like her, I just hate the goodbyes.
Ugh. Damn these transitions. Today when my aunt's mother-in-law said goodbye to us, she burst out into tears. My aunt explained that despite having only met us for one hour or so, she hated goodbyes and it didn't matter if she was changing a gardener or moving to a different country, she'd cry all the same. We're not that different, I suppose, in that matter. She's not the only one who hates goodbyes. So when my aunt later asked me if I'd miss Hamburg, I said yes. When my sis asked me if I would miss London, I said yes. I can't exactly pick out what about it I would miss, we had little sunshine, it was mostly cold and windy, and I have enough sausages/salami to last me the year. I spent most of my London years in wintry conditions, worrying about unwashed bedsheets and undone tutorials, cursing on a Sunday night when I couldn't find food that was fast and convenient ending up starving and then later binging on macdonalds breakfast after. I thought what I'd miss most was the people, which I suppose is true, except that most of the people I'm going to miss are already back home. And the true separation comes in September when they all fly back to the colder part of the universe and I sit in Singaporean sweltering heat. I'm going back to Singapore soon for good and I should be feeling excited but the elation is not as high as I thought it'd be. I guess like her, I just hate the goodbyes.