Last week I went home. I wish I could say that I was happy, but I wasn't. I took the small amount of time I had there for granted and now I miss it more than ever. Driving home, the closer and closer I got, the more I realized that I would have to leave too soon. I would be soon going back to an environment of stress that I could not escape. I am not as strong as I would like to think I am. I rely on my roots, my family, my home for support I could never get elsewhere.
Here I'm surrounded by my future. I think about what would happen if I failed. If I ended up disappointing my family. I'm not some rich kid who can throw away money for education. My parents are struggling to keep me here.
I prefer living in my past. The cozy, quiet past.
But if my parents have worked hard to put me here, then I'm going to work my ass off to stay here. This is the struggle that what will make or break me. There's no doubt that I will stress, or that I will turn to my internet diary for support. As long as I have my thoughts and my love of learning, I will become a stronger person. At the end of the day, all you have is yourself. One day I wish to be happy and I hope that I'm on the right path that will lead me there.
This is my home now. It's about time I put my heart into it.
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