Okay. I’m back in Shanghai.
Where shall I begin?
I got on a plane at Sunday noon, 12:55 pm.
By the time my feet got back onto the ground, it was Monday, 6 pm.
It was a 13.5-hour flight. But since LA is 15 hours behind Shanghai, it feels like I’ve lost almost a day and half.
But it felt something more than just lost of time. I’ve lost the ability to call and meet my LA friends whenever I wanted. I’ve lost the freedom to get onto Google, YouTube, Facebook hassleless.
I tried to sleep but I couldn’t. I only managed 30 minutes of shut-eye. Whenever I tried to close my eyes, the faces of my dearest friends were right there. I tried to get closer to them only to be interrupted by the flight attendents’ footsteps.
Under my eyemask, I started weeping again. When I thought I had cried more than enough, I cried even some more. Hour by hour, I’d exceeded the volumn of tears of I’ve shed on a single day…
The plane arrived on Monday afternoon at 5:30 pm Shanghai time.
It was drizzling outside. How fitting. I had been raining inside.
Yesterday my parents and I went to the Postal Office to collect my stuff. It was rather smooth considering what I’d dreaded.
All fifteen boxes. All there. Safe and sound. Well, except my glass teapot, which was shattered in pieces and my spatular, which was broken in halves.
I love my parents. I love my cat. But I’ve realized that there is something more that I want for this life even it means to be far far far away from my family. I’ve realized that three years later, LA has become my home.
“You know what you should do after you’re back?”
I listened to my wiser friend as I sobbed in the departure lounge, not giving a damn who might be observing my ugly cry.
“I’m listening.” I murmured.
“Write it down. Write it all down.”
So I did.
And yes, I’m back.