Home- /həʊm/
the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household I've been away from Singapore for approximately 4 months. Singapore's been my home the past 21 years. 4 months ago, the thought of moving 6000 miles away, alone, seemed scary and exciting. There was something about dropping all my baggages anchoring me down, that made it seem... almost a relief. I didn't know what to expect. I was also afraid of being alone. (Somehow, that's always been my fear.) I flew out of Singapore to Amsterdam alone. I guess that was my first challenge. I survived, well barely. I remember just feeling so alone and lousy during that flight. I don't think I was in a very good state then. But everything just went uphill from then on. I've made so many friends from all over the world during the past 4 months. I've laughed with them, cried with them, danced with them... fallen in love. I've forced myself not to think about what will happen when this ends. But the end is inevitable. Slowly, one by one, we'll leave this place. This place full of laughter and tears and our memories, will soon be just an empty shell, filled with new exchangers who will too create their memories here. As we approach the end, we'll cherish all the memories made. It's not Tilburg that's been my home the past 4 months, but the people here. And I'm glad that after this, I'll have homes in every single continents on Earth (well, except Antarctica). Thank you all. xx
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