I remember this feeling. My body remembers this fatigue I feel. My mind remembers this feeling of hopelessness, but there's an automatic combat mechanism inside of me trying to suppress it this time round so I'm still not showing it. I remember this feeling very well.
The last time I felt like this was around 8 months ago, when I was brought here and left on my own for nearly two months, with every single living cell in me rejecting this place. The pressure of having to face off a tough subject like Accelerated Maths 2 with no previous experience of how lectures in a huge hall were like, slowly got to me. I worked twice as hard, but no matter what, it still felt very empty. It didn't feel right. I didn't feel like myself.
Could math have stopped appealing to me? Was I, after all, kidding myself when I thought maths was the one thing that I could take on? I was unprepared, 7 whole months of unrelated work after leaving college has made room for everything I knew to rot. I was frustrated at where I was, the grass everywhere else seemed greener at that point. Eventhough that wasn't the case.
Then the midsem break came and I couldn't have been more excited and happy to go home. In my head somewhere, I told myself, I probably won't be coming back here again.
But two weeks at home, just lazing around, doing the everyday stuff that seemed trivial in every way, totally living life as if I'd never come to uni worked wonders. All the tensions broke loose, all my fears and frustration melted away like a sugar cube. And I came back. To the place I thought I would abandon.
That week after my two weeks at home, I immediately had four assignments due. I should have panicked and broken down. It should have ended there. But I was calm. I saw it through and I felt so proud of myself for that. Where did all this strength suddenly come from? Suddenly, Accelerated Maths seemed to talk to me again, I began to truly enjoy what I was doing once more. And I began to accept things around me like it was natural for me to, eventhough I was rejecting everythng before. And just like that, semester 1 ended really well for me, in a way I'd never imagined possible before I went back to Malaysia the first time.
I remember. I remember what gave me that change. What gave me that extra boost that suddenly made the coin flip sides, what made everything suddenly seem better. It was 'home'. One week at home and I'd be ready to take on the world.
I remember this feeling. It's homesickness. I miss home. I miss everyone so badly I would drop everything right now and come home. Even when I was in my spot of sun, I still went home each weekend. But it's no longer a three hour bus ride. It's a whole 8 hours at a price that doesn't allow for me to be home every weekend. Oh those simple weekends at home. How I miss them. How I miss all of you. How I hate not being able to see you all in person. How I miss the hugs, the teasing, the smalltalk when we'd all be in the same room waiting to fall asleep, the laughter, the out-of-tune singing to the radio or our travelling games, camping in front of the television in the living room and not moving until we finished that series, the background yelling of two very annoying online gamers that should really get a life, looking for the right weeds and grass for Fluffy, cooking with and for Grandma, my piano, my room, my stash of anime DVDs. How I miss home.
This is a feeling no one else outside 'our world' will understand. I don't need to travel around the world. I don't want to visit places during my breaks just because 'I'm already here, I might as well'. I know exactly what I want. I want to be right there, next to all of you. I want to be home.
So I'll hang on and count down the days. I'll be strong and do my best. Because I remember why I came back here and why I had to come here. 58 more days. 58 more days and I'll be home. Where I remember being the happiest I could ever be.