I woke up this morning smiling.
Before realizing that everything was just a dream.
I dreamt I was back home, where everything and everyone I love is. I was walking down the familiar streets, saw familiar faces and smiled as they waved back at me. I ran up the hill that I cursed everyday while I was trudging off to uni as it was so steep and so far away from my destination, and yes, I was too cheap to use the bus or drive because my god, parking is such a horror where I come from.
But I ran up the hill and rushed to library so that I could see the view from the 3rd floor. That little nook that I would always occupy when I was studying so that I could just look at the ocean and dream.
Then I walked back down to the city and had my favourite cup of coffee before walking along the harbour and peering at the museum wondering what the crowd was. I could smell the salty wind, although I swear I nearly fell down into the sea because the wind was so strong.
It felt so real. Felt so close. And I was honestly happy.
Then I woke up to reality.
I want to go home, but I know that I made decisions and I should stick with them. Even if I regret them, I know that there is still a lesson that needs to be learnt. And I must learn before I can pack up and move on.
But I really really miss home.