I’m going home, to the place where I belong.
But I’m scared. A bit. Slight bit. I don’t know why. It just that the uncertainties scare me.
It’s been almost a year. And I will be home soon.
Sneezy. It’s not because of the cold weather. It’s because the humidity in the air. I’ve live most of my life here, in Malaysia. Yet, my nose never get used to the damp air.
Everything seems so familiar yet so strange to me. The road, the people, the place. My grandma is here, staying at my house. I didn’t know that until I got off the plane and called home, and she picked up the call. An immediate dislike. I don’t fancy my grandmother staying over. She is a stubborn, old lady that simply difficult to deal with. My parents are very much in tension whenever she is around/or I should say worst. I don’t like the atmosphere when they are all together. Feeling slightly congested. I don’t want to come back to this. All I want is a peaceful, warm family atmosphere, shower me with love and kind. Sadly, all my parents did were arguing, blaming each other. Arrggh. I hate to come back to this. I was so disappointed. This is the reason I don’t want to come back. I don’t want to be in between them like this.
And all my friends have someone in their life. Left me all alone in this holiday season. Finding someone I love is not easy. Finding someone who will love you back it’s harder. All I did just spent my Christmas watching crappy tv shows alone. I don’t come back to this. I don’t feel like I belong here. I don’t belong here.
I’m so confused. Where I belong? Where is my, home?