Posted: November 30, 2008 in All and Sundry

When I arrived in the house yesterday afternoon after an uneventful flight from Manila, I had the strangest feeling; something I have never experienced before. I came home to a silent and empty house. And I felt like I was coming home to an entirely unfamiliar place. Immediately, I felt the need to get to know it again, every nook and cranny, every cobweb, every echo, every energy it stores. Somehow, the house became a stanger to me throughout the three weeks I was away. And my initial reaction was fear. Who was the poet who said that one will never come home to the same place again and again? Well, perhaps that very moment was the epitome of such poetic insight.

After fear, anxiety, and disappointment dawned on me considering that I have been looking forward to coming home. Most of my friends (the ones who really know me) are aware that I never really like staying long in Metro Manila. I even dread traveling to that polluted place. So all the while I was there during the training, I have secretly wished that I would be coming home soon. Hence, when I arrived, it was dissappointing to feel that the familiar scent of my bedsheets, the patterns in my room’s ceiling, even my clothes, my books, and my study table, all looked like strangers I have bumped into or suddenly interrupted. I felt like an intruder in my own home.

It is the strangest feeling ever.

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