Someone's Missing

Other than being a title from a band that I really enjoy listening, this post marks the end of the semester for me in INTEC. Through my days of non-writing, I realised that I am as much governed by my feelings than I accounted for. The slightest tinge of sadness can allow me to feel rather inspired to write. And then I realised again that this is not inspiration but rather an outlet for me to not keep things so bottled up.

So who is missing? My roommate. Funny story, I was never close to them. To be frank, I spend all my nights in other rooms. But I still felt a slight tug at my heart when I saw the bare beds and empty lockers; the sight of someone leaving. Thing is I realised about leaving is that leaving technically means growing. And judging by the many times I have left things, I grew. Leaving doesn't have to be physically. It could be mentally. But the first question that ran through my head was was I ever going to see them again?

Okay, this is the part in which I blame my mental process for giving emphasis to trivial things such as these. However, it isn't trivial. Trivial things would be forgotten easily like the place where I put my keys ( I constantly lose them ). So why is it so important? Maybe because the sight of people going on their own way made me realised that I will not be with them anymore. I was indeed slightly invested with my roommates. And I guess it makes sense.

Then, a very haunting realisation came about. What about those who I have left? My family and friends? Did they feel the same way? I can only imagine how they must have felt when I felt a slight melancholy when my roommates left. I didn't like the way it made me feel. It was sickening and depressing.

However, in life, this happens a lot. Are we to protect ourselves by not getting attached? It is indeed a cruel cycle. We get to know them and eventually they'll leave us. Just like Calypso; to be blessed with a companion only to know that he must leave as soon as she has fallen for him. To make matter worse, it is the choice of the hero to leave.

I'm starting to understand why I enjoy reading Greek Literature now.

But, I'm glad I have met a lot of people that have left. They catalyse a lot of changes in me. They were the building blocks that formed the 'me' of now. The fruit finally ripen after years of tending to it. They left because they have done what they are supposed to do, I guess. That's a nice thought. A thought of which I can finally reconcile.

I'll be honest, I am not returning. Why is that? Because I don't want to return to feeling so unsatisfied of life, so under-appreciated and having that self-loathing at how my life was. I want to leave. I want to leave to the place I came from. I want to do it right.

So, someone is definitely missing when I go back. But that someone is no longer needed in that society. Someone (hopefully) better is coming home.