Hate to Say Goodbye

Sitting at Starbucks Coffee @ KLIA at the moment. I'm flying back to Melbourne on a delayed flight tonight. I have been back home for exactly a month since June 15. I came back to My as Mom was telling me how busy they were handling the family business. I came back as soon as my final exams concluded.

It has been a bliss for the past month where I enjoyed every moment with my parents and family. Be it Dad's constant and random repetition of the n-th track on his best life-stories collection CD, or Mom's complaints. or my constant stopping my brother from computer games... I have enjoyed the moments that we lived together. Precious family moments. Like Dad said, 我们还能有多少次？ (how many more times can we do this?)

I've been trying to stop myself thinking about leaving because I know that I would cry. Packing was exceptionally hard. Everytime I come back home, there's an extra ounce of my that doesn't want to leave. Saying goodbye to Mom was the hardest. I know I should have given her a hug but I didn't want to do the Oprah ugly cry. At the airport I just touched my Dad's hand as he was in the car and I knew that my tear dam was starting to overflow. I'm sure my brothers knew that I was emotional when I hugged them goodbye.

I can't start to tell how much I'm missing them now. The parting this time could be long or short, depending on if I could find a job back in Melb/Aus. I'm allowing myself 3 to 6 months, which is until the end of the year. If I'm still unemployed by then, coming home will be my decision.