Absence and acceptance

Well, well, well. 

Look who’s back.

For starters, my motivation to write.

I know it’s been a while. A month, to be precise. I sincerely apologize for all the time I’ve kept you anxiously waiting for my next update.

So how have you all been? Doing good? 

I’m doing pretty good, too.

Okay, okay, fine. That’s a lie.

I’ve spent the last month doing nothing. And yes, I know that sounds like a lot of fun, but trust me it isn’t.

I am a living oxymoron. I want to be productive but am unable to bring myself to sit down and finish my work. I have bouts of highly concentrated motivation brought about by seeing someone my age become a millionaire. I’m a pessimistic optimist. I would like to write quality content but instead, all my abilities are absorbed in accommodating as many alarmingly addictive alliterations I can into a single sentence.

Like I said in the last post, I recently shifted to a different continent. And yes, while the differences in cultures, traditions, and food are amazing to observe (and eat),  it gets boring after a while. Especially if you only have your mother, father and 9-year-old sister for company.

And for the past month, I’ve felt, well how to put this, off. At first, I thought it was a disease caused by the extremely cold wind which altered my brain sequences and rearranged my neurons so that I would only be able to able to feel one emotion. I blamed my inferior mood on my non-productivity, lack of waffles in my house and Donald Trump.

But recently I realized why I was always so sad and mopey all the time. It was because I missed home. I missed my old friends. I missed our inside-jokes and late night texts. Missed my old school. My new one doesn’t start for another 3 months. That’s a lot of time with my hyperactive, super loud 9-year-old sister.

There had been promises made to contact each other at least once in a week. And while those promises had been kept till now, I can only wonder how long before they are broken. Because promises are meant to be broken, aren’t they? I know that though we’ve managed to stay in touch for so long, at one point of our life we’re going to have to move on and embrace our separate lives without each other in it. And so, I’ve unknowingly spent the last month wallowing in self-pity all the while refusing to acknowledge this fact.

But as I write this post I can say that I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that people will find new friends. Yes, perhaps my old friends will find funnier friends, friends that understand them better or friends that are more outgoing. But they will always have the memory of the glorious years of friendship when we laughed through our sorrows, cried with laughter and went through pain and betrayals.

And who knows? Maybe years later, while going through boxes of dust and old memories, they’ll stumble across something that will remind them of me. But until then, until I’ve become a chit that was passed around during history class, or a red basket in which they received their present or a birthday card filled with pickup lines, I will stay rooted in their life, trying my hardest to be with them during their ups and downs. If you’re reading this, know that I’ll be there for you.

If you’re there for me too.

Taking off while strumming the rest of the F.R.I.E.N.D.s theme song on my air guitar,

Sam

P.S: What about you? Have you ever had problems after shifting? Did you make new friends? What problems did you face?

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