I suddenly had a realisation today while I was sitting in the bus home.
The missing no longer causes me grief. It is still there, no doubt. But slowly, gradually, it has gone down to a quiet murmur, and arises gently only when one has an idle moment and the mind is triggered by visual/auditory stimuli. (which I must admit, is not common as I'm so tired out these few days with work!)
I still remember the days when I've just arrived in this strange foreign land. And I could almost say I was in denial. When a lot of things didn't turn out as I had imagined. When obstacle after obstacle came.
There was anger, frustration. The intense longing for familiarity. My loss of sense of belonging. The tears that came in the quiet of the night and there was nobody to comfort me at all. The only one I had was myself.
Now, it would seemed that I've come to a quiet inner acceptance of my state.
I still remember fondly the memories of the days long gone by. But now, reminizing about them just makes them seemed like grey blurry pictures that happened in another lifetime. It was almost difficult to make myself believe that I had led an altogether different life, once. My common sense tells me I did of course, but the starking difference just makes it seems so impossible.
Looking back at those memories, I can't help but ask myself: "Was that me? The girl with the sparkling eyes that loves a joke and laughed so much?"
And who have I become now? Have I changed? I wonder.
But whether for good or for bad, I have adapted, changed to survive. I tell myself that I hvta continue to be strong, cause life is only going to get harder from here on.
But hey, who knows how will things go from here. Life is always a journey full of surprises. :)