Homesick.

For the past few months, everything had passed by in a blur.

From graduating university last June, saying goodbye to long-time friends, packing up to move to another country, to desperately looking for jobs the minute I landed, it seemed like my life had been constantly shifting from one thing to another without me even having any time to process it long enough. Like I’m just floating through the motions, seeing everything happen from above, without really feeling anything.

I just got through my very first job interview yesterday, and it felt like all those anxiety-ridden nights full of doubts and regret, and that nerve-wracking feeling when you’re trying your hardest to always put your best foot forward, had paid off. I got through it. And somehow that accomplishment is all that matters to me. Now all that’s involved is waiting. Waiting to hear the answer that will either lead me to a new chapter in my life, or to start over again, and keep trying.

Right now is the waiting and the rest. A nice long rest after all that stress and hard work.

But I’m now realizing that this interlude has its own consequences, and now asking myself if all that stress I’ve put myself through – the incessant nitpicking  in order to create the perfect resume, googling all the phrases that makes the perfect cover letter, the endless research to ace that interview (not to mention the sleepless nights) – had it all just been a distraction – something I have to do to no end – to keep myself from thinking the thoughts, to bury that real feeling deep inside me?

Because the minute I stepped out of that building the very first thought that entered my mind was, “What now?” You know that feeling when the day is finally over, and now is the time to finally sleep, but you couldn’t, because now, finally, that you’re alone, the thoughts come flooding in because there’s no more anything to keep you from thinking them? That’s how I feel.

I woke up this morning thinking of the friends I left behind, how their lives are going without me getting to see it, thinking how everything would’ve been different had I stayed.

I think of Manila, with its ugly skyline, dirty streets, and eternal traffic but knowing that it will always have heart despite its flaws, how I will always find my place in it no matter what, how I will always know how to navigate those dirty streets with my own two feet…that’s what I miss the most. The feeling of warmth and how no matter how much it or I change, it will always always be home.

Or maybe what I’m feeling right now is missing the familiar because it’s comfortable, and I’m scared of the cold and the new. I’m scared that if I get rejected, all the pain and the self-doubt and the feeling of being a nobody will be there again. And if I get accepted, it’s the feeling of knowing absolutely nothing I’m afraid about. The feeling of that re-start, trying desperately to find your place in a whole different world, falling and falling and getting back up again. But falling is never a good feeling.

Maybe I’m homesick, or maybe I’m scared. Maybe it’s both. I don’t know.