"Now love's a broken record
That's been skippin' in my head" --Stuck, Stacie Orrico
It's a new chapter. It feels like a restart button (I wished it was a reset button). I haven't really like snapped out of it yet, its been such a blur. I know that nothing much has changed in many people's lives. But in the past two months, so much has happened, so much has changed within me. Maybe a little on the outside as well. I've gained some weight (noooooooo! I'm in the process of losing it) and I've got straighter hair now, slightly red as well.
I felt like I lived this entire two months of my life entirely on my own, like zero impact to anyone else, but me. I suddenly had these extra stories, those people, the interactions, the laughter and the frustration, all the amusing things and all the disturbing things, the memories that I didn't know would become memories. I still kinda space out some days and I imagine myself back there, I remember the scent of the room, the cold marble floor, the musty wooden cupboard and the chilling cold wind that comes through my windows. I suppose I do miss it, I miss the weather the most. Nobody will hear those stories. Soon I will slowly forget them, only to be reminded occasionally. There will be little reminders to remind me of those little, fleeting moments back there.
I like being here, no doubt. But there is this giant weight on my heart that just doesn't feel just right either. Its not that I didn't know, but I think it became much more true recently. It doesn't matter where I am, here or there, I am all alone.
Thinking back, in a very rational sense, it was a blessing. The entire ordeal was a blessing, an experience I would not give anything up for, something I would do all over again if I could turn back time. Going there, I wished it would change me. I wished that the place, the people, the situation, would all force me to be... better. I think the thought was planted in my head "You're not going to be the same person when you come back" but that sentence was said with such negative connotations. As if that new, changed me would be worse off than the person that I was before I left. I didn't feel like a good person when I left, I didn't understand why any change from that would be a bad thing. I was cross and confused as to why those changes would make anyone less fond of me. But, I was also curious if those changes would make me better... or worse.
Maybe they were right. But maybe, I didn't have too much of a problem with a little change in me. It was already happening, I knew it. I just felt that my actual move to another place would complete that change.
And it did. Rewired.
It's been awhile since I got back. I really haven't spoken much about what happened there, the entire experience, and now I think I am actually beginning to forget it. Or more like, I don't know how to use words to describe all that anymore. I don't know what are the points to mention, what are the things that I should actually be saying, if I'm saying anything at all. Apparently my very generic answers have been sufficient to fulfill people's curiosity. But that's because there wasn't much.
So much has happened, everything so quickly, since I was there, since I came back. In fact, so much had happened in the short period of time that I came back that it felt like suddenly all that time in Shanghai never existed. Truthfully, all those happened in my head. In reality, all I do is sit around a lot. Wait a lot. Do nothing a lot. Sleep a lot. Watch Korean dramas a lot. Eat a lot.
Those photos they took of me, I don't know how real the smiles are. But I am glad that it depicts some form of joy. Something that even I find rare in my own photos.
I hope I have been spending my time wisely. Unsure of the consequences of my actions now, but I know for sure that I won't regret any of this.
I scare even myself sometimes. I think I'm becoming more crazy, a lot crazier.
I am so, so blessed.
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