I moved out of my mother’s house when I was 24
When I said moved out I meant really moving out, no coming back on the weekends for laundry or dinner.
I went abroad, to another country
where they don’t speak the language I spoke
Where they don’t look similar to my friends and my family
Where they don’t do things we used to do
Where they don’t sing songs we used to sing
Where they don’t eat what we used to have for dinner
Where streets don’t have stalls full of hot food, steam comes out with smell of sweat and spices. Grilled pork skewers was my favourite.
I learnt to make a home for myself
I learnt to make a meal the way I like it
I learnt to fill up my days with lots of things and people
I learnt things will never be the same but it doesn’t have to be
But when the night falls, and I’m left alone, it feels the same no matter where I am