On the morning of my departure, I hugged Miho, Naoko and Okaasan goodbye.

I waited for David, thinking he would be late and I would have to go to the airport alone. He came.

I fought with David for the window seat on the bus and lost.

He fell asleep while I spent the ride looking out the window, trying to absorb and memorise every bit of scenery that we sped past.

I lost my alien registration card so I was taken away by the airport police wtf to file a report. -_-”

I wanted to spend more time with David because in all likelihood, I will never see him again but the police were waiting wtf.

I hugged him goodbye across the iron barrier. He looked sadder than I felt.

The airport officer complimented me on my command of Japanese. I told her it would probably deteriorate from then.

On the plane, the stewardess spoke to me in Japanese and I savored my last chance to speak it in a long time.

I spent the first part of the ride lost in thought about Christine, David, Trey and Neal, my host family and Shijo. I wasn’t sad earlier but I regretted saying goodbye so hastily then running after the airport officer.

I spent the 2nd half of the ride talking to a man from Nepal who (no offense) smelled odd and didn’t understand the concept of personal space because he kept leaning in too close.

I thought, I am lucky to be able to travel so much and experience so much, but every time I leave a place, I leave some part of me behind.

Most of my year is spent in America but I don’t feel like it’s my country. I spent the past year in Japan and I felt happier and more contented there. I grew up in Malaysia but most of my friends are gone now.

12 hours after leaving Japan, I wanted to go back.

But as the plane descended, I looked outside the window and saw the fields of oil palm, the yellow highway lights and the rows of terrace houses. And I was happy.