When?





Sometimes I ask myself until when will I be doing this. Flying back home, then going back to work.

I have quite gotten used to it. I can already hold back my tears unlike before, when tears will just stream down my face after going through the immigration. In fact I have a usual routine. Turn on my international roaming an hour before, then text the parents when boarding is announced. Send in another message when already seated, and another when the plane touches down. Lastly, call when home and about to unpack. 

Yet no matter what I say, there's still this part of me that wishes for the impossible- somehow hoping my family's just at the other door, or at the floor below, where I can smell mom's garlic rice in the kitchen. But then I constantly have to keep in mind that I'm doing this for no one but myself and "the" future- when my still unknown dreams have become a reality. Till then I will allow myself to miss my family, our home, our life, and keep on taking a picture of this scene at the airport, and doing my usual routine.