I don't remember being like this last year.
It's my second time being home for the summer and from start to now I feel that my present is its own ticking time bomb. Every day that passes draws me nearer to my inevitable return to England. Last year a part of me longed return to the freedom, the crisp dry air and to being self-sufficient but now I dread the return. I think about how much I'll miss the warmth of my family, the chatter of my friends, the comfort of my soft bed. How there won't be someone to welcome me back, to worry about if I've eaten, to nag at me about getting stuff done.
What changed me and what caused me to suffer from homesickness when I am at home? There was a point a few weeks ago when I started to regret going abroad to study in the first place! I know it's a great opportunity to be able to experience a new culture, live in a new place-- but at what cost? I can't take back the time I've lost, the memories I missed. I have missed two Chinese New Years, one Christmas, a dozen birthdays and all the spaces in-between. Of course there are the pros such as learning from published authors, being a part of Blizzards, and calling myself a Londoner (hah jokes). But I ask myself if it's all worth it.
A month and a few days left to go. Enjoy the present, embrace the now. There isn't a point brooding, but it sure is difficult when a venomous seed has already been planted in my mind, periodically whispering tick... tick... tick...