Tomorrow I will be going back for the first time in more than 2 years. Home.
While packing my luggage with short-sleeved shirts and shorts, the difference between the place I grew up in for over twenty years of my life and the place I now live and work in begins to hit home. Similar in so many ways, but different in as many aspects.
The decision to leave home for this place was a personal one, and in retrospect a hurried one. But thankfully that decision has shown itself to be the correct one, at least from my point of view, although some issues have yet to be ironed out. Don't even want to waste my breath on that, time is a better medium in those respects.
Friends with wives/husbands/children, the NE line, new PM, 5% GST, new SMU building on the old National Library site.
Changes. Ever-widening differences. Trying hard to stay in touch, but in the end, one can only hold on to the past as the cold, unfeeling bureaucracy bulldozes it's way through my memories in the name of progress.
Don't call me a quitter just for the fun of it. Think about why I'm not coming back.