I AM A CHARACTER IN MY OWN FICTION.

The pretty-crazy life of a late 20ish career-driven, quirky, Asian drama addict who thinks she's Holden Caulfield in real life.

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Coming Home

After more than four months of living sort of independently, I am finally coming back to my parents' house. I've been thinking about this the time I set foot on my pseudo-abode but still considered moving anyway. And now, I am half-hearted about the whole thing. Part of me wants to stay and savor [more] my so-called bitter-sweet independence while the other part is yearning to go home, to my own room, sleep on my own bed and just be with my family.

Looking back, I have come to realize that half my life, I've been away from home. After highschool, I started living on my own, far from the confines of the safety of my home in Manila. My school was far up north where I do not have any relatives to run to just in case something bad happens. But the whole experience turned out to be one of the biggest achievements of my life. It taught me that the world goes round like it usually does but the phase of life that you'll lead will always depend on you.

I've lived among strangers, some of which have become part of my journey while others remained as distant drifters. I came to know the world in its real sense while discovering a whole new me in the process. And so right after college, I had the notion that I can live perfectly on my own. I became too independent that I thought running away from time to time (especially if things at home do not go my way) is a natural resort. I was technically a "stokwa", a "stow away" or whatever they call it.

My first job, much to my enjoyment, required a lot of travelling. By then I was a certfied nomad... I go places, I was never home. I was enjoying every minute of it.

As much as I would like to stay close, there are circumstances that forces me to drift away. My family is not a picture perfect one. There are times that it resembles a battlefield. And knowing the stubborn little crazy ass that I am, I always refuse to wave the white flag. I live up to my 'maldita' attitude. I always run away.

But now I am coming home. I want to live at least a few moments confined in its four walls, knowing that there, i will always be safe.

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