It always dreads me to start over each
time I come back from a long break. Even though I’ve been here at the exact
same spot for the past 10 years, I am always not ready to come home. No one
here ever grows, the same drama would still be going on, and most of the time,
I just grow tired of living this routine. I’m scared of losing myself again; I’m
scared of falling back into the routine again, or even worse becoming more
closed minded than before. I’m scared of losing all the happiness and freedom I’ve
felt when I sit on the train or watch the sunset on the top of the cliff.
I don’t want to get back to everything or
anything that I’ve left behind in. But it doesn’t mean I wasn’t ready to see my
family and friends; I just didn’t want to lose that smile on my face. I’ve had
a list of reality waiting to slap me hard on my face; I don’t want to be that
person anymore. It’s hard to live in a
place so suffocating, to be happy, and to
be myself.
