I told myself I would sit down and write all of this down properly in my notebook but I just spent a good 14 hours in bed and was too tired to do anything on the plane/train here so... typing it is.
(Maybe when I feel like it I will add pictures)
Since I left I've been constantly reminding myself of my Fav Old Wise Man's quote about how lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye hard, because I really, truly am. It's always the same old thing - me worrying that I'll leave wanting to leave but at the end realising that I had what could possibly be the best 3 months of my whole life. I fear the day I look back on the year and say "20__ was better".
Isn't it strange how summer always feels longer than the time I actually spend in school??? Maybe it's because every day means something to me. It feels so unnatural now that I don't have to wake up at 6.35am, snooze for 10 minutes before huddling with the other 3 million or so Singaporeans at Bishan, then walk to GIS to spend my next 9 hours, followed by dinner at home or with an old friend; but really, it was only 3 months.
If I were to define my summers with a single phrase, last year was about reconnecting with old friends and this year, deepening that connection. I can't deny I struggled a lot with myself (as we all do I guess; I'm not even sure if I would choose not to if I could), maybe even more so than last year, except this time I had work to distract me.
There are so many things I started to miss even before I left. While we were sitting by the river on Friday night with our alcohol and milk teas talking about backup plans and just... sitting there I wanted it to last forever; each time I took the train with Jofo on Mondays and Wednesdays I never wanted it to reach BV; even though I found myself in so many awkward situations this time I don't regret anything because I had my friends beside me, and on the lazy Sunday afternoons I found myself on the sister's bed watching some show (and falling asleep before it ends) I dreaded the day I wouldn't be able to anymore.
Thinking about what the past 3 months has done for me makes me feel so guilty because I have done nothing to deserve all of this. I hate myself for likening it to being enveloped by a giant toasty marshmallow but that is what it feels like (? zz grace). There are so many little things I treasured - our weekly bubble tea runs during Saturday gatherings, talking to XT for 3 whole hours on a random bench in HV and marvelling at how so much can change in just a few years, or listening to an old friend pour his heart out for the first time.
With those came so many valuable reminders that although life keeps on changing I will always have people riding the waves alongside me; that although I am a terrible terrible person at times I have friends and family who support me unconditionally. I have never in 3 months received so much reassurance, both directly and indirectly, that I will never be alone. I lament constantly about how I can count the number of friends I have with my fingers, but the blessings these friends have brought me, I forget to count.
The next year will be a war and I have spent the past 2 days doing nothing (I like to say I'm doing some mental prep). I have yet to even write down all I have to accomplish by December (which is thankfully and hopefully when the war dies down a little) but I'm sure I will get through it just fine.
TQ summer 2016 for giving me strength