Thursday, July 30, 2015

The pain of giving up my hometown

There is a hidden feeling inside me, sometimes it lingers on the edge nudging for a response, sometimes its totally undetected.

I miss home. I truly miss it so very much.

I hate having to deal with responsibilities. I hate having to deal with all the challenges I have to face to stay on in a country that is still so unfamiliar to me. I don't feel like I belong here. But ironically, even if I go home, I have to deal with even more problems.

Life is hard. I used to think life is okay. But life really is hard. It's gonna knock me down, break me down into tears. Bring me down to my lowest low. But I still cherish life. I appreciate being alive. Otherwise I would be nothing.

Sometimes I feel like a failure, but that's just plain negativity. I'm just progressing at a lower pace. But I am doing alright, I'm still okay. I have my family, friends, and my dear boyfriend who offers me nothing but love and kindness.

Like how movies show characters grow through hardships and challenges, I guess this time is my growing point. Getting beaten down to the core, and to crawl back up again to learn to be strong.

Despite all the sadness and anger, I have to admit, the good side makes it worthwhile.

I still believe, life is good. It's always been good.

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