So I’m back home, in Saudi.
Not much to say except I don’t ever want to leave because home is where heart is, & my heart still lies here; small fragments scattered in every nook & crevice where I have created memories.
I know there are more places for me to go, more for me to learn, more for me to experience, but nothing is quite as comparable to your childhood. It’s full of optimism for a better tomorrow, that things will be better when we grow up. I would trade a year of my life to experience that, for a day again.
One day, I’ll have kids [insha’Allah] & then the cycle will start again, & I’ll have a chance to live it all over through my mother’s eyes instead. But until then, I feel like I’m on a stretch with no beginning or ending. It just keeps going on & on & I have to balance too much to walk it off properly. I’m trying. I won’t give up, but the optimism is missing & it’s the one thing I need right now.
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You’re currently reading “HOME.,” an entry on Epitomal Fragments of a Teenage Mind.
- December 28, 2012 / 3:49 am
- Life & all its drama.