Musings of Leaving


When there is a limit, time is short and a little to faster than you thought it was. You’ve always wondered how all those days when you impatiently stared at the second hand and when you’ve purposely “killed time” are equally measured as the same day. It feels like holding on to sand so tightly, so passionately and it’s simply going through your fingers. The harder you hold, the faster it flows. It’s just like those last days of summer and the last days of college before graduation, in which seems so eventful, so purposeful because you’re simply redeeming the time and the memories that could have been in between.



I’ve always complained I lived on an island. It’s too small, there is no opportunities, people are lazy and it’s just too hot. You really don’t know the value of what you have until you leave. I live in a very beautiful island, but I never knew how beautiful it was until I left for five months at the most. I started missing the things so common, so normal in my life: the beautiful ocean, the amazing sunsets, the barbecue, the presence of my dear family an friends. I started comparing things I see on other places to what I have on home, and trust me nothing compares to my home. Before I couldn’t wait to leave, now I count the days of finally coming back.


Home isn’t simply a place. It’s a group of people. Honestly, if I could pack all the people I love in suitcases, I would. With them, no matter where I go, home it will be. But another thing is, you could make multiple homes just like in Monopoly when you create houses for yourself for a couple of bills. But instead of homes, you give your heart. And when they hand their heart to you as well, you’ve made yourself a home. I already ripped my heart leaving the Philippines. Oh God give me the grace to rip my heart again a second time around.


I can’t believe I could pack my life in two large suitcases. I can’t believe I own too much stuff. I don’t more stuff. I want memories, I want love, I want laughter, I want friendships and experiences, knowledge and wisdom. Things that will make me a better person. Eternal things.
Leaving doesn’t dawn on me as fast as punch on the face. But when you it does, sadness takes over, urgency is heightened and an emptiness follows. Then I cry. I cry hard, I tell God how sad I am and that the price of leaving is such a high price to pay. How about the times I could have been with my family? Years of potential memories and times that I could serve and be with them not only the good days and also the bad. It’s a high cost. And I do have a high calling before me.
Oh God, I may not see it right now, but let it be worth it.

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