Spring is finally here. Gone are the multi-layers, the snow and the cold-induced shivers. In a way, it has not been much of a winter, which I am pretty grateful for. Apparently last year the weather went so bad that they had to cancel their exams to wait for the snow to thaw and get the roads cleared. While the sight of snowfall was exhilarating through one's third-world lens, the novelty wore off quite soon after, where the trouble of dumping on layer after layer each time I needed to get out was becoming increasingly unbearable. And much like a castaway gone astray in a desert, I too had my fair share of struggling with mirages: my craving of warm coffee (read: comfort!) remained omnipresent, and I have had dreams (emphasis on the plurality!) of myself lounging on Kuta beach basking in the glory of the sun.
The first month of living in land far, far away was filled with an undercurrent of anxiety. So much for my fairy tale getaway! The interminable and excruciating wait for that email letting me know whether my applications had been successful did take away some of the fun. In fact, it was punishing. Nonetheless, when it came and the wait ended, the much-anticipated euphoria did not rush in as violently as I thought it would. Do not mistake this as a sign of ingratitude because I was over the moon with the result-- I still am. After much contemplation, I realize the reason why I could not feel as ecstatic as I could and should have been was that: I was not with the very people with whom I wanted to celebrate my winnings. And by 'people', I meant my parents.
Funny enough, I do not consider myself as close to my parents. In fact, most of the times when I was at home with them, I hardly had anything much to say. Most of the conversations revolved around me senselessly verbal-vomiting about how my life had been (read: filling in the silence and fulfilling filial duties). The conversations were unilateral. While my dad had ambitiously (albeit to no avail) tried to engage me in an adult-to-adult conversation regarding whatever was on the news that particular week (which I could not care less about), I have always been able to guess what he was going to say to me for the rest of dialogue right from the very beginning, from his very first opener. Of course, I have always been filial and follow through with the conversations because now I realized, on hindsight, it did not matter what we actually talked about. The fact that we spent quality time together was what was important.
I did tell my parents about the outcome of my applications, and they were thrilled about it, but unfortunately I just did not get the kind of closure that I needed. This has been quite a journey: never in a million years would my 16-year-old me ever imagine that the 22-year-old me is standing where I am today. And this-- I-- deserves a much cooler celebration than what that 10-minute Facebook chat could conjure up.
