A lot of times, I feel like an alien stranded on earth, unsure of my purpose on this planet I'm supposed to call home. I've been contemplating about "home" for some time now. A term that bears more meaning than a mere roof over the head; the place where the heart belongs. And where does mine? My heart's always on the move, like a backpacker I suppose. It's nice to be able to explore and uncover the beauty of various destinations, to embrace change and be excited about the unknown; yet sometimes, it's a bummer returning to a temporary lodge day after day, unable to linger at a place you grew to love.
So my friend and I were talking about long distance friendships one day. Speaking from her own experiences, she believes that long distance friendships are hard to maintain after a year or two cause it kinda fades away when you're no longer part of each others' life. Her comment saddened me cause I believe it partially true. The fact that I haven't been in touch with some of my friends at Hawai'i since google chat voice started charging calls to the U.S. made me feel disconnected with part of who I was. The lovely bunch who used to share my laughter and tears, estranged. Although I believe that when we get together again, we'll be able to pick up from where we left off, it saddens me that things won't be the same anymore. No more late night girls talk, no more falling asleep to Boys Meet World, no more monthly Blockbuster scary movie nights, no more weekly island adventures, no more unplanned evenings in car parks, no more random Waikiki outings, no more lunch dates, no more beach, no more hikes, no more... Man, I thought blogging was supposed to help me feel better about the whole situation.
I understand that change is inevitable; but each time, I feel like I left a piece of me behind, leaving a void in my heart. I try not to complain, but sometimes I get tired of restarting my life over and over again. Exhausted to the point where I'm reluctant to make an effort to start something that will end in due time. It's not easy, at least not for me. But if it's His will to push me out of my comfort zone and experience life changes a little more than average, then I shall learn to embrace it. As in the story of "Who Moved My Cheese," change happens whether you like it or not. You either anticipate, accept, and move along with it, or you rot with your stinky old cheese. So I guess that leaves me no choice but to move on with the new cheese and learn to enjoy it.
Pray do give me strength.
Figure 1. A frowning cactus yearning for a hug. Exactly why I love stitch.
