Second year was over and I went back home to Brunei. I missed everyone so much that we ended up sitting in the living room and talking and laughing a lot even though I just got there. Then suddenly the time got fast-forwarded and it was time to go back to the UK. As much as I didn't want to go, I have to. Mum and Dad were wrapping this present thing and said, "Open this when your birthday comes ok?" Which means that I won't be able to spend it with them so at least they have my present ready. I was trying hard not to cry. Then suddenly I'm back in Falmouth unpacking thinking how fast time went by that I don't even remember doing anything else but meet my family during the whole time I was there . . . and the homesickness starts to kick in.
It turns out it was just a dream and how I wished that it turned out true instead even just for a day. It was 5am when I woke up and unfortunately cried my hearts out like there's no tomorrow when I realized the dream wasn't true, that it didn't happen at all. I was shocked and sad. I'd give anything to be home now honestly. It did feel like everything happened in just a day though in the dream - I didn't remember being in the 16hr flight home and back or anything else in between for that matter. It was just snippets of the events that occur or matter really, like bits of memories. Sigh~
Now that I've calmed down a bit, I guess I've just got withdrawal symptoms from being so far away from home and everyone dear to me. Realistically I won't be home till the end of June. Three more months . . it'll be over in a blink of an eye right? Well I'll just keep telling myself that.
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