Home is where the Heart is


I think I’ve abandoned this blog long enough now, maybe it’s time to get back on track.

It’s currently 2.30am, and it’s my last night in the room that I’ve spent the last nine months in. I’m supposed to be packing, but here I am.

I remember my first few months in the UK; I was miserable. Homesick and lonely, missing everyone back home. I don’t remember exactly when I started to feel comfortable, but after a while the pieces started to fit, and this place, despite the horrible weather, started to grow on me.

I remember during my final year in high school, people around me started talking about studying abroad, and I never really was able to relate to it. Unlike some of them, who knew for sure that they were meant to leave the country for further studies, I knew for sure that I wasn’t going to go anywhere. I was meant to stay home, close to the people I love. Yet after a couple of years in college, that changed, and here I am, doing something I never even thought I was capable of doing.

How I felt was almost the same feeling I had before I started driving; I simply could not imagine myself behind the wheel, and constantly imagined all the possible ways that I could get into an accident. Just like that, I could not imagine myself being on my own, without my parents staying with me and taking care of me. I know that kind of makes me sound like a spoilt child, but it’s not like that. I’ve just always been close to home, and never experienced anything nearly as drastic as leaving home for nine months. Just the thought scared the hell out of me, and I didn’t think I could even survive.

During Christmas, I was this close to buying a flight ticket back home just so I could be home for couple of weeks. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t, because it would have been such a waste of money, and I wouldn’t be able to experience all four seasons, which is something I do want to experience, although winter was kind of hard to bear.

I guess like everything, it has its good and bad. Although I’d like to think that my time away has made me closer to my parents (I don’t think I’ve ever talked so much with my Mum), it has also taken a toll on my relationship with my boyfriend. Sometimes things are good, other times things get really bad. You hear people say, ‘distance isn’t a problem if two people really love each other’. Well, true, but only to some extent. With the time difference and lack of presence, it can be hard to be there for each other, sometimes when most needed.

Not to mention, love isn’t stagnant, and inevitably people do change, though not necessarily always for the worse. That’s how people grow, and in the end it really boils down to whether the other person cares enough to hang on and make it work.

My boyfriend, for example, definitely changed for the better. He’s becoming the man I always knew he’d be. I, on the other hand, did not do so well. The last couple of weeks I’ve become insensitive, losing sight of what is really important to me. Words started to come out of my mouth sounding all wrong, and it hurts, knowing that I’m hurting someone I hold so dear to my heart.


This journey has truly been amazing. Words cannot describe how blessed I am to be given this opportunity (thanks Dad) and it will be a part of my life that I will always look back on and smile. That being said, without a single doubt, I am ready to go home to the people I love, and to be in the arms of the man I love, because home is where the heart is.



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