Saying that I miss home so much is an understatement. It is, really.

The thought of being away from my family and my friends still scares me. No, scratch that. It’s already a fact. I am here in the US, away from my comfort zone. And it pains me.

I was very determined to push through. I’ve prayed hard for this to happen. God didn’t failed me.

I knew I would be away from everyone and everything I love so dearly, but I didn’t realized it would be this hard. I was never this weak. NEVER. And I’ve never pictured myself this way. NEVER.

God let this happen. And I believe He would never put me into something I would not be able to overcome. His plans are always better than mine. I’m leaving everything up to Him.

And I’ll never fail Him.

***

Leaving is hard. And living after leaving is harder.

The month of March has always been a sad month for me. EVERSINCE. You know, goodbyes and all. I hate goodbyes.

That’s why I never bid goodbye to anyone. Because I know that this is just a long see you soon!

Three weeks ago, I left home with a lot of what ifs in my mind.

Now, I’m starting to get answers for all these questions. 

This is what I know I wanted. And no matter how hard everything could be, I know I would never give up. I would hold on to this. 

If this is what it takes to be someone who you want to be, go. As the saying goes, “If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn’t lead you anywhere.”

***

I feel so uneasy these past few days. I miss home. I miss everyone. I miss everything. 

I came to this point that I felt like the more I spend my days here, the more I deprive myself of all the happiness I could’ve felt if I didn’t went here. 

But I’m keeping my faith. I know everything has its own purpose. God wants me to learn from this. He wants me to grow— he wants me to be a better version of myself. 

***

Time flies. And I can’t wait ‘til I travel 8493 miles back home. 

I have never imagined leaving home at an early age of 20. No, I’m not getting married yet. I left home for work here in the United States—something I never thought I would do in my entire life.

When I was a kid, I kept on telling my parents and all that I would never go abroad. Talk about eating your own words. Having grown in a family where you only get to see your breadwinner after adding up a year in your age, you’d never wish to do the same. I know how sad it is to be away from a family member. And I never wished to add up to my Mom’s burden of missing members of the family. It was only Dad before. Now, it’s him and me.

I arrived here in Clifton, New Jersey yesterday. And just today, I did all the errands. It is only now that everything finally sank in—I’m now living on my own, away from my family, away from my comfort zone, away from everything I’ve grown used to. I’m now in a place where everything is new to me—the people, the place, the food, the culture, the climate, and everything. That only means, I have to speak in English most of the time, I have to clean my room, fix my bed, cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner, wash the dishes, wash my clothes and all, I have to wear a coat, boots, leggings, bonnet, and all which I’m never used to, oh well, everything’s new here, and I’m never really used to all these. But now, I have to. I have to learn and do things on my own.  You read it right, I’m learning and doing things at the same time. Judge how hard that is.

Well, I’m positive that I’d be able to adjust in a few. So far, people are friendly. And based on my research and some hearsay, people here are really friendly. My employer sent someone who would pick me up at New York last night, his name is Marco and he’s nice. Despite waiting for 6 hours at the airport, he’s still cool. A while ago, I went to stop and shop to buy some grocery items. I had troubles finding some stuff, and the staff gladly accompanied me until I finished everything.  It’s almost an hour walk from the grocery to where I stay. While I was walking along the sidewalk, some would ask me if I need help. You’d seldom here people say that in my home country. All good signs, right?

I’d be starting to work on Friday. The country club is closed during Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays, which means I got 3 days off. Not bad.

This morning, I’d be going back to New York to find a US sim card. I’m praying I wouldn’t get lost.

Tomorrow, I’d be fixing my social security number and I’d undergo a drug test. I’m not sure yet, but I’m guessing I would have my orientation on Friday. I was told it’s gonna be some sort of a classroom blah.

So far, I’m having a good time here and I’m adjusting well. I haven’t cried since I arrived here. Haha. Everyone’s guessing that I would, for a maximum of 1 week. But I’m actually proud that I didn’t. Thanks to the Internet connection. I was able to talk to my family and friends. I just miss the sun and the weather in the Philippines. I woke up at 12nn, I didn’t saw the sun. It didn’t appear the whole day, either.  I guess, for now, that’s what I’m missing.

I love Sundays.

There are a lot of reasons why, and I’ll tell you one.

Last Sunday, I met up with friends. We were supposed to be a big group. Plan was compromised, again. But I would not just let this plan be scraped.

Pangs, Marco, Kuya Jheerick and I heard the mass at Pink Sisters, where I also bumped with my Aunt and her kada.

I’ve been praying hard for a thing to happen for the past weeks and I would not want to miss the opportunity to have my prayers be spoken by the most imploring individuals I know. Hence, I put my prayers into writing and shared with the pink sisters. I’m of one of those who believe that prayers become more powerful when shared. Of course, it’s not just about myself and my loved ones. But also of people, who I’ve never met, yet i know still needs help through prayers.

I’m trying to make every day a Sunday. You know, how refreshing and rejuvenating Sundays could be. I’m glad that since I started working for Duty Free, I went back to being the devotional me. I’m starting to keep up with my spiritual needs and I’m more than happy that I’m succeeding. That’s a long story, if I may say.And I’ll just cut it short here.

Going back, after the Mass, we headed to Java Jazz. We had dinner and took huge amount of photos.

I ordered caramelized chicken, Marco had Bistek, while Pangs and Kuya Jheerick both had Chicken Curry. Food was superb, I finished two orders.

I wish we get to spend Sundays more often— it’s a happy pill.

I’ve been craving for Sbarro’s taste for almost a week so I decided to ask out the Rufino’s to dine with me. I actually thought of not inviting Pangs, but ended up having dinner with her alone since her sib needs to attend to something and her mom’s shift ends at 10pm.

Pangs wants Mcdo for dinner. I should’ve agreed to eat there. But since I’m dying to have a taste of Sbarro, I didn’t. She bought burger and fillet there while I ordered baked zitti with white sauce and spag with tomato sauce.

And there goes my worst Sbarro experience. I don’t know if I expected too much, but, I love Sbarro and it’s actually one of the restos I would always love to dine at.

I tried to save the food and added spices, but it didn’t worked.

Good thing, Pangs saved my night. I had a good night sleep despite the bad experience.

Last weekend was a roller coaster of emotions.

Saturday. We dropped Pa at the airport. He had to leave early because of an urgent matter. I’ve already grown old of the same setup and I’m already used to the emotions. To set the record straight, I’m no longer affected by Dad’s arrival and departure. Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad bigtime! But if you’ve been dealing with the same situation for 20 years, what do you expect?

He usually leave alone. He wouldn’t let anyone of us, including Ma, to accompany him before his flight. I would see Ma crying silently for a couple of days, and then she’d be fine.

But last Saturday was different. Pa allowed us to drop him off at the airport. I looked at Dad before leaving, and I can see right in his eyes the sadness he tries to hide. It felt a bit awkward, but I was the one who cried first. Gah. And then, I saw Mom crying silently. Her shades didn’t help. I burst in tears while driving.

I felt like I miss him..so much! We used to be partners in everything. But after THAT major argument, everything changed. You know, it’s hard when you are with someone with the same ideals, attitude, et al. I sometimes feel there’s a competition between us. And we would never let each other win. Hah. I am my mother’s replica but I got the inner me from Dad.

Thing is, I’m not sure if we’ll be seeing each other this year. And I guess that add up to the weight of the emotions. I just hope we’d get to spend Christmas and New year together.

After driving Ma and sis to Cavite, I went to Megamall to meet up with Tito Father, Father Christian, and Pangs. We had coffee and donuts at Krispy Kreme. Spending time with priests outside Catholic functions is cool. You’ll definitely forget that they’re priests. You get to talk to them anything under the sun, and you’ll laugh your hearts out with their stories and jokes. And just like normal people, they also fool around. Oh, i forgot, they’re also normal. Haha.

Went to Cyberzone to pick up the laptop that Tito bought and then we had dinner at Chef’s Quarter. The food’s superb, would definitely dine there again soon!

We headed to QC to drop them off to the terminal to catch the 12mn ferry going to Marinduque.

And then, there’s heavy rain. Been driving at EDSA for numerous times already, but it was actually my first time at QC and I’m not familiar with the route. Good thing, Pangs helped me brave EDSA that night.

Sunday. Woke up early for our bi-monthly grocery and shopping. Bought some accessories for my Mac. And I felt the need to buy new shirts. You know, I’m a lover of those and I couldn’t resist buying tons of them every month. Just imagine how much is left with my salary on a 16th. Haha.

We were home by 4pm. I spent the remaining rest hours with my babies. I washed and waxed Mikhaile and then played with Moochy all night.