I told myself I don't need to explain anything to anyone, as not everything that happens to me is of great importance to The Universe. However, there is one thing I need to have, before I can move to whatever's next, ... and that, my friends, is called closure.
So, as you can see, in a post not so long ago, I packed my bags to seek my fortune in a new continent. I was optimistic, hopeful, dreamy, ... even found myself singing a Disney princess song. When I reached Australia, I was even more enthused, because if you have never been there before (as I had when I first arrived), you'd be gobsmacked with just how stunning the country is. The landscape, the men, the art scene, the theater events, the fact that everything worked, and again, those beautiful men... My fascination increased exponentially by the day.
Unfortunately, there were things that didn't work out. Looking back, to be honest, work played a major part. My homesickness compounded it. The fact that I lived alone, truly alone for the first time, made it unbearable. This was where I discovered that my family and friends were the glue that kept me together through all the stress and heartaches in the past. It took a few months of living in a foreign country to confirm what I had suspected all along when I was just a junior and travelling for work, which was -- I am not a fucking island. I can't ever be alone for a long time.
(I know that some of you have survived, even enjoyed, being on their own in a foreign country, especially in a progressive one, and that's great! But I suspect that there are others like me.)
I had thought about sticking it out for two years, or even a year. Or changing employers. But I didn't think I would be happy continuing the same line of work. I had also thought about looking for a partner there... but something felt wrong about settling in Australia permanently. I had also been neglecting personal goals, and surprisingly, neglecting them more in the new environment than in Manila (where it seemed there were just too many things to do). There was nothing to gain, I thought, by prolonging the agony.
And so, I made the difficult decision of leaving a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and headed back to Manila. (Of course I didn't leave the country without savouring the delights that Sydney offered.) If you know me personally, you'd know that I am one who doesn't decide on impulse. You would also know that I am very practical person, too practical sometimes that I had chosen paths because they're safer from financial standpoint, and not for the right reasons. What you probably wouldn't know is that a lot of the best decisions I had made in the past, like taking up writing, were based on gut-feel. The decision to leave Australia was rash and impractical, yes, but I believed, deep in my heart, that it was the best thing to do. I trusted my gut. It told me that things were going to work out. That I shouldn't worry.
Even before I arrived, I knew I was going to happier with my family in polluted, dangerous, politically immature, gates of hell Manila than in sweet Sydney. And I was! and am! I don't regret working and living in Oz because I would never have realized what mattered to me most.
It still bugs me, to be frank about this, when people ask me why I returned, and why after only a few months. (I still remember being affronted by this Pinay I've just met a party who, after being told by my friend that I was heading back to Manila for good, scoffed and said, "You're crazy!"). It is harder to explain the validity of FEELINGS than, say practical things like getting a better job offer or getting redundated or someone back home is sick and therefore needs to be taken care of 24/7. When asked now, maybe I should just shrug my shoulders and quickly change the topic.
It was easy explaining to family and some close friends as they were privy with my goings-on via skype and viber while I was still abroad. It was tougher to explain to friends who mattered to me who weren't at all updated until the very last minute. At one dinner out, they were silent as I babbled on, and they were careful when it was their turn to speak, and they expressed (somewhat) that they were, of course, supportive... but it was painful to see disappointment in their eyes. I knew that they rooted for me when I left, and they had wished me all the best and happiness for my new adventure, and this made it harder for me to explain myself (even when I didn't have to). I felt like I had failed my friends who believed in me, and I wanted to redeem myself so that I wouldn't feel like a wimp each time I went out with them. Of course, I am probably overreacting at the situation, and I know these friends of mine had already forgotten about the whole Leaving Oz episode and immersed themselves in other more relevant things... Still, part of me says I want to be worthy of their company, and that I have to redeem myself in some way.
I won't redeem myself by applying for another overseas assignment, that's for sure. Not for the moment, at least. I need time to work my way through things that make sense for me. And for now, I'd just have to stick to the plan. This plan, you should know, is already a mutant version of my earlier Grand Plan; actually I should really just call this a "working guideline", as based from recent experiences, life is fluid, and we sometimes need to go with the flow.
SO, there. Closure. Sort of.
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