Today, I found two boxes.
Two very, very special boxes.
It's been 4 years since I left home to study in the UK, and you'd think that I'd be used to being here by now. But truth be told, I haven't. Sure, the overwhelming feelings of homesickness, of waking up in the middle of the night in tears from nightmares are long gone, but as with everything else in life, I get bad days. They're not as often now, as you'd imagine. Leicester's somewhere I'm comfortable in, & having Don with me definitely makes it feel more like home.
But every so often, I wake up dreading going out- because I don't want to remember that I'm not home. Malaysia home. They're days when I walk on the street and wish that the faces I see weren't so.. foreign. When I hear the people speaking and I try to block them out. To be back home, to be able to walk around without feeling like I don't belong, to hear language spoken in the familiar accent only Malaysians understand.
Today was one of those days. But I remembered these boxes, filled with things important enough to bring over all the way from Malaysia to UK. I rummaged through my cabinet, found them hiding in the back away from plain sight & pulled them out. I sat down on the floor and went through the contents one at a time.
Things from my high school years, my college years, and even my uni years (although there's still another year to go, fingers crossed). Scribbles from classes when we probably should've been paying attention, doodles, notes passed around, little trinkets, gifts from friends, letters and cards from friends. And my favourite: two scrapbooks made for me by my bestest of friends. Made by people who truly love me and whom I miss dearly. Reminders of how I'm never alone, despite 1728634281934 miles between us, they'll always have my back.
So today, right now, I am thankful. I am thankful for friends to call my own. I am thankful for my boxes.
