207 miles.

paper hearts // silver trees ft. bailey jehl

Warning: If you’re not – in any way – into sappy stuff, might as well just make a U-turn now because I took the risk of writing this, knowing darn well that I might end up sobbing.

Where do I start? Oh yes. University. New life. New world. New people to meet. New names to be memorised. All happening in a matter of less than 72 hours.

When I was 16 / 17 years old, I had set my goals crystal clear; graduate high school with great exam results, get into university to further my studies in a particular course that I’m interested in, get a degree, get a job, money, travel the world, so on and so forth. God, was I determined.

Time passed by and now it’s coming one by one at a considerably fast pace that I have come to wish there was a ‘pause’ button so that I could just take a nap and a break from life for approximately 10 years.

I’m thankful to have been accepted into a course that I have always looked forward to enrolling in. I’m thrilled to start learning new things and experiencing a different kind of life; a breath of fresh air (I hope it’s also literally). Still, my heart does feel heavy to leave home and this small, unsung town where there’s a lot to love yet so much to complain about. Alas, reality is cruel. It doesn’t poke you. It smacks you in the face like a proper greeting it is.

I know I’ll still be coming home for breaks and whatnot but I have never been far away from home for more than four days so people, bear with me.

You were five years old, crying over broken crayons and having ridiculous ambitions like being a “princess” and “Power Ranger” when you grow up, thinking those are the best ambitions ever!

At the age of five, you thought broken crayons were the most depressing thing. You had absolutely no idea what you would be so agitated and wary about at the age of 18. Suddenly you’re 18, you’re leaving home for university and you start to wish you’re five years old again, with broken crayons in your hands.

There are a few things that I’m glad to leave behind and bid ‘sayonara’ to but mostly I’m going to miss the people and things I love. Like my parents; the actual loves of my life whom I have spent more than 18 years with, the two people who really know me, my queer habits, my tendency to fall asleep without taking my glasses off and how much coffee I consume in one day. Like my book shelf that I’m practically married to and can’t go a day without staring lovingly at; I’ll miss going through the pages of each book and taking in the scent of it. Like how I open my bedroom windows every morning after waking up because I can’t stand not having it opened. Like seeing my father get in the car to go to work. Like watching variety shows with my mother while we fold clothes or have meals together. Like driving around town with her while I play my favourite albums and whether she likes it or not, I don’t turn down the volume (she doesn’t complain, thank God). Like going out for dinner with my parents and we always take time to order our meals. Like seeing the colours of the sky during sunset. Like how the town looks like at night; half awake, half asleep but everything is still so beautiful. Like the street lights. Like watching TV shows with my father and we would both get so absorbed. Like my mother waking up to find out that I’m still not asleep at 2 a.m and questioning me after breakfast. Like hanging out with my friends. Shoot, I’ll even miss my high school years.

Still, I know there’s a lot ahead, waiting to be discovered and experienced. New things to fall in love with – and though I am not completely ready, eventually I will be.

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