The Long Way Away From Home
So we made our long journey home from London Heathrow, through to Bangkok's new Suvarnabhumi Airport, and then to Changi International. Along the way we met some other SMU students (seriously, SMU students are everywhere - me and Marc even bumped into some in Eastern Europe), and went for an exorbitant-for-Thailand-but-cheap-for-Singapore Thai massage that cost us 500 Baht for 45 minutes while in transit. It was pretty shiok but my muscles are still tense from sitting down and sleeping upright all day.
Saying goodbye to London and getting on the plane proved easy enough; it is coming back here and dealing with the end of it all that is so hard.
I am not used to the warm weather, or sleeping in my own bed anymore. I am disturbed by the soft whirr of the aircon, having been used to sleeping in heated rooms (heaters are silent mostly). Marc is not next to me, holding me to sleep. I have loads of washing to do, stuff to organize, and a dusty musty room to clean up. But yet I can't get to sleep, perhaps the jetlag or the surging thoughts.
And I also want to see my friends, but everyone seems busy these few days; either that or our schedules clash (and I hate that when it happens). :( Is it my own fault for not having 'booked' them down for tomorrow waaay in advance then? But I was afraid I would be too jet-lagged to go out and then be awful company.
Aye me.
I know I just said goodbye to Marc like a day ago and I'll be seeing him in two days' time. But yet my heart aches, and the loneliness is making me panic. Part of it is because he's existing in a totally different time zone from me now, and I have no idea what he's doing, or if he's safe because I can't get him on his mobile. But most of it is because, when I said goodbye to him at Heathrow, I was also saying goodbye for good to my European adventure.
Our one big adventure that spanned from the Rhine Valley to Budapest to Salzburg to Bath to Paris to London. He still gets to stay on in London, but I have to come home and face the reality that it has ended for me. I am home now. I will see Marc again I know, but not ever in the same circumstances - not in the freezing cold winter of a foreign land, not with the promise of new adventures every day, while we're both on exchange in Europe together.
Our great adventure finally has its ending, and I think that is why we were both sad to say goodbye at Heathrow.
All we have left are memories, and those are so painfully ephemeral. You can't hold it in your hand, like a souvenir, and with time they'll all rub and fade. There is no physical evidence that these things happened, and life here scarily resumes as if you've never left.
Saying goodbye to London and getting on the plane proved easy enough; it is coming back here and dealing with the end of it all that is so hard.
I am not used to the warm weather, or sleeping in my own bed anymore. I am disturbed by the soft whirr of the aircon, having been used to sleeping in heated rooms (heaters are silent mostly). Marc is not next to me, holding me to sleep. I have loads of washing to do, stuff to organize, and a dusty musty room to clean up. But yet I can't get to sleep, perhaps the jetlag or the surging thoughts.
And I also want to see my friends, but everyone seems busy these few days; either that or our schedules clash (and I hate that when it happens). :( Is it my own fault for not having 'booked' them down for tomorrow waaay in advance then? But I was afraid I would be too jet-lagged to go out and then be awful company.
Aye me.
I know I just said goodbye to Marc like a day ago and I'll be seeing him in two days' time. But yet my heart aches, and the loneliness is making me panic. Part of it is because he's existing in a totally different time zone from me now, and I have no idea what he's doing, or if he's safe because I can't get him on his mobile. But most of it is because, when I said goodbye to him at Heathrow, I was also saying goodbye for good to my European adventure.
Our one big adventure that spanned from the Rhine Valley to Budapest to Salzburg to Bath to Paris to London. He still gets to stay on in London, but I have to come home and face the reality that it has ended for me. I am home now. I will see Marc again I know, but not ever in the same circumstances - not in the freezing cold winter of a foreign land, not with the promise of new adventures every day, while we're both on exchange in Europe together.
Our great adventure finally has its ending, and I think that is why we were both sad to say goodbye at Heathrow.
All we have left are memories, and those are so painfully ephemeral. You can't hold it in your hand, like a souvenir, and with time they'll all rub and fade. There is no physical evidence that these things happened, and life here scarily resumes as if you've never left.
posted by the zee at 4:57 AM
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