On leaving

When I was younger (hell, a lot younger), my mother decided that it was a good time for us to emigrate to Australia. It was right after the communists have fallen and the country was in a mess, etc. Anyway, I was super excited about leaving and traveling and meeting new people and all that. Until we got to the point when it was time to really leave. When I realized that I will most probably never see my friends again. And then all hell broke loose. And i started crying and howling and whoever knows my projection capabilities I WAS MAKING A LOT OF NOISE! and the lift was not working and we had to descend all the nine floors down, and i would grab unto the iron bars of the staircase and cry and shout. Yes, it was that traumatic.

The long flight + the 12 hours transit in Frankfurt really helped to calm me down. Things got a little better after we arrived but still I sometimes would cry myself to sleep missing all those people at home. Of course, when we had to turn back to Romania, it was the whole thing all over again.

I guess these traumatic goodbyes when i was little made me what i am today. I am fully capable of turning my back on my friends, leave the country and never contact them again, without shedding a single tear. And when i do decide to leave, then that's it, i'm packing my bags and i am off.

This time though, I have a feeling it will be different. Not only do the current people i might have to leave behind (mind you, I am not 100% sure i am leaving yet) mean a hell of a lot more to me than most people until now, but also I have become hopelessly addicted to some foods here. Yes, pragmatic I am, but whoever said that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach for sure meant "the way through a woman's heart is through durians and tom yam soup".

But what i am really trying to say without becoming mushy is that I will make sure and will try my best (to the point of stalking) to make sure that I do not loose contact with the peeps here, and that hopefully we go climbing or eating even when our boobs/balls have become soggy [vulgarity necessary to reduce the mushiness of the post].