Home : Home – Sarifah Ulfa – Medium

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Home. I think I haven’t found my own definition of ‘home’. I ever heard some people thoughts which were “home is the place where you can always come back to” or “home is when you found your family” — well, those are sum up of their long definition of home, there’s still lot of other thoughts, though. Although I’ve read few other definitions, I just can’t seem to portray it. Maybe, because the perks of being distant from my family for such a long time that gives me this kind of ‘problem’.

I kinda realized it recently. I’ve been away from my parents for too long that made me hard to even missed them. You know that kind of situation when you haven’t met someone for — let’s say—years and the amount of your ‘get-together’ with that someone in your whole life can be counted with your hand fingers, how’d you feel? Is that crime for me not to missed them like how other kids supposed to be?

Since I turned 3.5 years old, I’ve been living with my aunt and my siblings — for quite some time, though — in other city away from my parents. At first, I thought I was cool and ‘awesome’ for going through that kind of life, but sadly not anymore. They said I’ve become an independent girl for struggling to live distant from my parents, and my siblings for now. But do they know that it actually doesn’t turn out good? Of course no.

I’ve never felt how warm it is to being hug from my mom, even when we met — which is almost 3 years ago — everything became too awkward, I couldn’t say ‘hi’ properly to her or held a conversation with her just to say ‘how have you been?’ because I’d going to my aunt whom up till now still bear with my life being. And same things goes with my father. I’d prefer talk with them through phone, why? Simply, because that’s all we did these years to keep in touch, I could hide my expressions, my thoughts, my health, my problems, and any other things. I’d always want to ask their life, their health, or just say ‘I love you, mom/dad’ through the phone but it sounds so strange for me, I don’t know why. So in turn, they’d always tell me first about their day and I’d ask few things about that. One good thing about my dad is I could always ask him to cheer me up when I’m down because of my academic life, he’d encourage me and tell me some good things to push up my motivation, well I’m definitely very thankful to that. But that’s it, all I could ever share with my parents — my dad to be exact — is about my school life, never about my social life, love life, or other topics that other kids can share with their parents.

I sometimes kinda feel jealous to hear my friend could easily talk with their mom about their day or when they could feel their parents’ warm hug whenever they’re home at holiday or could having dinner with their whole family. While me — hehe. There are lot of things that I regret in my life because of this life that I’ve been through. Maybe it’s the reason why I always feel such a failure to everyone, even my aunt — actually, she ain’t like me that much, but she doesn’t has any other choice I guess.

I feel sorry for my parents, my aunt, my siblings, and many other people for being a disappointment. I’m deeply sorry.

And I feel sorry for myself not to know what home is like.


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