Back to
where it began. January 17, 2011. Last meal with my family and grandparents;
the day that defined what goodbye meant to me; the start of true independence
without help.
I have never
in my life, cried so hard before. Not even my encounters with the Holy Spirit.
From the wait to actual boarding I felt alright, but missing my family’s face
already. After all, I’m always in Penang International Airport with my family.
Just a few hours ago, I still see their faces.
Once the
plane took off, so did my tears. I was lucky enough to have all three seats and
couple rows by myself. Lucky, I said. Looking outside the window, I saw the
lights of the city, my city. I was
not able to do anything but weep.
I was filled
with so much fear that I could have just break the window and jump out. But I’m
not that strong. I’ll walk out like a crazy person. But I stayed in my seat. I
still cannot tell today whether I was too weak weeping or somehow had this
stubborn courage in my gut that kept me in the plane.
I must have
freaked her out. The air stewardess asked me whether I want Coke or water or
anything else to drink. I tried my very best to say I want Coke; not a word came
out of my mouth. I cried harder each time she walked towards me, talked to me, asked me
again and again what I want to drink. Everything seems to be a trigger;
everything else is just another button to the fountain of my tears. We both
finally gave up and I had my own time to cry until I fell asleep.
I really
hate crying. But knowing that I will leave home at least two years (senior year
and a year of employment with OPT), I don’t blame myself for not holding back
those tears. That is one moment that I will not forget as long as I live.
After that
traumatic start of my travel, I returned to the usual Julia. Confident in
traveling alone, visiting a new airport, and meeting new people. Nothing can stop me now, I thought. It
would be precious if I get a snapshot of how silly I looked during my time of
travel. Hahaha.
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