And so the journey begins, was what I told myself the day I took a boat to Cebu to report to my first real job. It has been four months since I said those words and yes, the journey has indeed begun. Cebu has become my second home. But after five years of staying here, I still can’t truly say that I am a Cebuano. I chose to base in Cebu for the opportunities that I will never grab much more find in my hometown.
The day I left home, I didn’t know where life would take me. Will I ever come back home, not for a vacation, but truly to come home? I still don’t know the answer. But there is a certain power that twines me to my hometown, an unbinding spell that would always make me miss it.
Whenever I go home, I would always hear distant laughter of my past, smell a scent of my childhood summer and a flash of far-away memories. This is my home, this is where I grew up and this is where I shall rest when the time comes.
There were moments when I felt confused, happy, glad, alone and sad when I realize that I have become independent. I long for the comforts of my parents, the unique scent of my room, the dogs I so truly love and the sisters I have grown fond and close to.
Tonight, I was with my friends. They were all like me, freshly independent and naïve. We were having the best time of our lives, and why not? We finished college, have good jobs and we’re young! Oh we are young! We talked about the past, the present and the future. We talked about our dreams and our goals. We laugh for present, cheers to the future and weep for the past.
Deep inside, I know, every one of our smiling faces had worries inside. Will I ever reach my goals? Will my dreams ever come true? Will I ever be successful in my field? Where will life take me? Yes, we are young, but we had full of questions as well. But at the end of the day, we go home, we find our families smiling at us and we say, “this is what makes life worthy.” But I don’t have that. I go home to my room alone. And when the nights go deep, my roommate comes home, we talked, we laugh but it isn’t the same.
I don’t have my sanctuary of peace, of love and of safety. However, this is the life I chose. I chose to be independent and it’s going to suck for a few years but sooner or later, I’ll be fine. I can’t explain it, but that feeling when you go home after so long is one of the best feelings in the world. Home to me is not just a word or a noun; it’s a feeling I’m lucky to have.
