A couple of months have since passed when I last saw my family. As much as it was a sad circumstance in which we had gathered for I was still nonetheless happy to be back home. It was almost felt like a relief. A relief from a sense of detachment and loneliness I have felt that I had suppressed.
In that short week and a half I felt like I belong again. Once again I felt comfortable and wanted and free. Things were familiar and comforting.
But I was happy and miserable all at once. Happy that I was in the company of my cherished loved ones. Miserable that I couldn't share the experience with the one I love who was thousands of miles away.
Mum tells me I have a sunny disposition - what she does not see is the longing and the tears when I'm away from them. And yet when I'm with them, my heart is pining for my dearest.
Over here I have love. I have independence and I have a career ahead of me. And yet there'll always be a void that can only be filled by kinship.
This here is my dilemma - my heart torn in separate directions. This here is my heartache - my saviours are my tormentors.
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