Home...

Friday is coming...
The words are out on the streets...
"I am going home this weekend! I can't wait!"
And the conversation goes on...
From one person to another...

All I can do is listening to their excitement...
"I want to go home, too..."
I whisper quietly in my heart...
I wish I can...
I wish my home is just like their homes...
A home that can be reached easily during the weekends by trains or coaches...

"Soon, your turn will come and you will know the true meaning of being home more than they do..."
I comfort myself...
'Yes, being home for me will mean different for them.'
Not just merely for saving my own money by asking my parents to buy my grocery and bringing it back with me on Sunday.
Not just to ask my Mum to cook food for me then freeze it for a long term saving, so that I can save the hassle of cooking for myself.
No... It is not the same!

Being home...
Is to enjoy and appreciate that I have the best Mom in the world with no one to compare the taste of her cooking.
Is to share the time together; happiness and laughters will follow.
Is to live the love of my family.
The presence of each person is important, I found that each time I am home.

Christmas holiday is coming...
The words are out on the streets...
"I can't wait 'til Christmas comes! Three weeks holiday, I will be at home. Don't need to do my laundry by myself, don't need to cook, don't need to study until the last week of the holiday."
And the conversation goes on...
From one person to another...

All I can do is listening to their excitement...

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