five years being away from home and yet, saying goodbye to my parents after every trip home never gets easier.
annual trips back home pre covid were a given which I took for granted. each trip, I would either go out with friends, spend time with my then boyfriend whom I already saw every day or just mindlessly hang around the house with no plans or intention. even then, the small fraction of time spent with my parents was enough to make a teary goodbye at the airport every time.
after two years apart, we were finally reunited and this trip could not have been lovelier. intentional time, surprise gifts and just good wholesome time spent with no boyfriend and no distractions in between us this time. maybe it was the time apart and the distance of time and space which made it all the more sweeter for us. but this goodbye stung so much more.
I'm now in a 12 hour long transit waiting for my flight back but I'm still fighting the tears. at the airport gate, my mom told me it's ok, don't be sad, you have everything, remember what you're going back for. a job? a career? a life that many can only dream of? I don't know. what am I going back for? all the designer bags, new clothes and jewellery in my hand carry could not justify this pain... no amount of money could make me give up even a day with my parents... and yet I was leaving.
"this is your path, you're doing so well, you have so much to look forward to in your life there." I don't know if I see it anymore. maybe it was really covid. maybe it was seeing how many missed funerals and goodbyes people had to go through. maybe it was seeing how good life is in a simple coffee shop with my aging parents. I don't know.
I always found pride in this so called path. at the precipice of youth I'd say. nothing is in vain! but honestly I don't know if all that is worth it anymore...