(With my parent’s command). Reluctantly, I prepared most of the things that I needed for the next couple of weeks.
I remember the night before I transferred back to our home. I spent hours admiring the little moments, memories, happy and peaceful life I had in my boarding room. The room is much bigger compared to what I have at home. The closet is enormous and I can even fit and hide without having a hard time. The bed is a king size (I guess) that 4-5 people can sleep in. I love sleeping alone on my bed as I can roll over and be normal when I sleep. I am very wild when I am asleep. The window room is facing the sunset. Every afternoon I spent an hour appreciating the golden hour, with the sky varying from golden yellow, orange, purple or sometimes pink. With the little mountain view from afar, trees that make the view more aesthetic, birds chirping as they head back home, cool air breeze and coffee at hand.. it’s just so magical. Perfect! I would say..But those days are over. My daily “me-time” is now far from my reality. Being here in my room in the middle of the busy streets of our town – I can’t help but wonder how or when I can have my magical life again? Will I ever experience the magnificent “me-time” again?
The more I stay home, the more I remember the main reason why I left home and how much I wanted to escape. During my childhood, I used to think.. that I am a princess trapped in their kingdom’s castle. I remember the nights when I cried and how bad I wanted to have my own room because before I used to share my room with my sisters. Sharing rooms with sisters is great. Yes, if only you have enough space and resources. But if the situation is like ours, sharing the room with 3 other sisters and with only 1 bed, how would I ever enjoy it?
I remember those nights when I ran outside at the back of our house and cry myself out under the poor light from an old bulb. I cried because I waned to focus on my study but I couldn’t because of the messy and chaotic environment we had at home. When I was in college I wanted to have my own apartment to be in a boarding house or dormitory. It took me 4 years to convince my parents. In my last year at college I was able to stay for a year in a boarding house with wonderful ladies. Then when I graduated, just days after that.. the king forced me to come back to our old castle. I can vividly recall how I cried in front of my friend Cath telling her how much I don’t want to go back and how unfair my father was. It’s now been 5 months since I came back home. But the more I stay the more I want to leave.
The more I stay the more I recall the bad memories that I had during my childhood and teenage years. Our home is still a home. It is wonderful, but it is far from perfect. Now that I am 25, the more I want to have my own house. A place that I can call my own home. A place where I can have my favorite things, where I can relax and enjoy. Something where I can find peace, joy and contentment.The question is, will that be any sooner from now?
Xoxo
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