Lately it’s been trying; bottling up some passive-aggressive steroids and something finally snapped within me. It played out nothing short of a Korean drama – shirt ripping, head banging accompanied by cries and tears of Zion. Emotional apocalypse.
In a small but significant way, I feel as though I am no longer the person I was the day before. The uncertainty of my future in a home long forgotten. Maybe its the anxiety of leaving, of partitioning my life into cartons of boxes, of figuring out how to spend the remains of my time, of planning 4 trips coming up on my calendar, of making amends, of saying my goodbyes….
Lately its been getting tricky. The days seem shorter, time fleets by faster and I sense the fading of my youth. I don’t seem to feel prepared for the end of this chapter. Its more than just a passport chop away. It’s not just the geographical familiarity I have adapted to in the past 3 years. Its the change of the pillow I lay my head on, the creaking pipes when I first turn the shower nob each morning, the squirrels in the yard, the mosques’ daily prayers, the adventurous tales of my cab rides….
Goodbye KL. Hello Melbourne – we meet, once again.
Then this morning, I rose from bed and was greeted by a speckle of hope floating in my periphery vision, like a dust speck against the sunlight, and it dawned on me that maybe – just maybe – its not too late.