It’s been a while since I’ve written.

I got home on May 5 and it has been a strange few weeks of adjustment for me. The first obvious change was the weather. From the time I sat down, I perspired non-stop: before shower, after shower, there were no extended periods of time for which I was dry. Diet wise, my tummy was very very satisfied. It’s been a while since I had such good food! But probably also because of huge diet changes, I lost a lot of hair – same goes for when I returned to US.

One thing that made me feel really old was the longer time my body needed for time to synchronize again. Probably because of the long isolation, my social sensors felt overwhelmed. I didn’t talk to anyone about it, but for one week, I didn’t want to leave my safe shelter. I almost deliberately contacted my friends on the second week because that was when I felt ready to face the outside. It took me that long to readjust to the reverse culture shock – it was as if I forgot Singapore was not all made of elites. Not everyone was dressed nicely, and there were friendly aunties and uncles around town.

Coming home was supposed to be a happy, exciting event – at least that’s how it played out in my head. But coming back also means returning to your past and history, as we know it, is never an easy happy solo event. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, true. But distance also creates physical boundaries. It was as if, within the amount of time I went away, the whole world moved on. My family, friends in Singapore, in New York. I returned to so much unknown and for them, so much disconnect. The hole in my heart expands as each person I’m close to finds their other half, and leaves me with ample time to contemplate about relationships. I don’t necessarily feel the need to find someone to fill the gap, but the presence of relationships for others leaves me with absence of relationships. I guess it’s bound to happen eventually, why not now? It’s just, I thought I’d have a few more years with my close friends you know? I could drown myself in work but it’ll be like in Michigan all over again, where I’m surrounded by people but could not hold one intellectual conversation with (that sounds really elitist – I really just mean a satisfying conversation) I knew I was unhappy, and I cried loads, but I never knew how much I was affected until I looked back at the music cover I made.

I wish things were easier, I wish I had more money so that living could be easier, I wish I were more articulate and eloquent. I wish…a lot of things, don’t I? Life’s only going to get harder from now on, and I have to gear up to fight the battles coming my way. I think it’s so important to have inner resilience, perseverance and such; my tragic flaw lies in my lack thereof, and my easily affected self-confidence and esteem. Learn to love yourself for goodness sake! Disease of the heart can only be cured from within. 

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