starts with goodbye

I'm back. Finally. I think nobody noticed my missing (except Nico, just told him) due to darling my writer's block. Haha. Last Thursday I'm off to Kota Bharu with my Kakngah to stay at my aunt's house and I just got back this mornoon (morning+afternoon). Our tickets were booked months ago (which I soon regret) because they are tiket murah. Actually, I didn't really want to go, but I've never been on plane before the idea of going there by air was very tempting plus all the hasutan from my Kakngah, I agreed to follow her.

Living with my aunt's family had me into a lot of thinking. Well, to be honest I didn't really have anything to do there so I was forced to let my mind wander around. It was the first time I'm really away from my parents (minus the Khemah Ibadah last year), I found myself missing them dearly that very night I arrived. I was homesick. You may call me manja or something but that's true. I really missed them. I looked at my aunt and her husband and I thought, "Wouldn't it be nicer if Mi and Abah are here too?". I watched their daily lives, I listened to their jokes, I joined their conversations, and I realized although my aunt and my Mom grew up together (mind you, they aren't biological sisters), they are so much different. Our lives are so much different. Although it was a bit fun living there with all the noise, the (very!) stupid jokes and the maddening behaviours, I found myself kept counting down the days of my return to my house. I guess I'd prefer the quietness and calmness here. Maybe that's because I've been raised this way.

Everyday before I sleep I'd think what day was that day and how many days left to be there. I missed my Mom's soothing voice when she woke me up every day for Subuh prayer and later in the morning. I missed my Dad's loud and stir-causer voice when waking me up if my Mom was out. I missed having the newspapers ready every single day early in the morning. I missed my Mom's cooking. I missed the funny little arguments between my parents. I missed their laughs. I missed my Mom's sneezes and my Dad's snores. I missed following my Mom around the house to see what she's up to. I missed watching her cooking. I missed having to watch TV downstairs if all upstairs' TVs are full. I missed waking up to see my Dad using the Internet and feeling kinda upset. I missed having to listen to his classic songs. I missed calling him to sleep upstairs every night. I missed my room. I missed my darling computer and Internet. I miss my phone's headset (OMG how could I left them!). I missed having to climb up and down the stairs. I missed my super thick wonderfulfantasticbombastic Dictionary Yang Hebat, as I call it. I missed my friends. I missed the calmness of my house. I missed my life here.

I've been thinking, I only left for 9 days and I already missed everything like hell. So what would happen when I left later after SPM? If my original plan of going to Melaka succeeds then there would be no serious homesick problems. But what if my other plans of going to UNC or others instead came true? I can't come home often. Now I know how my brother feels when he went to MCKK years ago. I still remember his face when our car drove away, leaving him behind all alone. He never cried, but I know his heart did.

And speaking of crying, you know ever since I watched some clips from last week's GG, my heart wasn't beating properly. I didn't manage to watch the full episode and I have to wait after I got home to watch it. My wait shall be over soon, at least tomorrow. Watch these and you'll know why.

Oh Charles Bartholomew Bass :'(