It's been a month and 2 days away from home, but I don't really miss it. Not at all. Not until someone tells me how much they miss me and I feel like I miss them too, at that time. Not until I take a look of my cute yet annoying cat picture, wishing that I could play with her paws. Not until I see a picture of my family hanging out together, sharing laughter. But then the words fade away, I close my gallery, sign out from my social media, I feel whole again. For awhile. Until those cycles happen again.
Then I start questioning and feeling scared. What if... I fall too deep in love with my solitude, away from the people I've been spending all my lives with, away from home? Because here I can be all alone without feeling lonely. Here, I'm free. That's the thing I've been wishing for, to start all over with a clean sheet. Is that wrong?
I don't know. So far I can only come up with one best answer: missing someone or something is just a temporary thing, you will forget about it right away when you're occupied with something else. Yes, that's the bittersweet fact (or guess?). But, let's be honest with each other. How many times do you miss someone when you're so busy with your work that you don't even remember to eat? How many times do you say 'I miss you' and still missing that person days after that? You answer me.
Am I wrong?
Oh wait, I have my second best guess: some people are just simply born to be free.
