Leaving home.

It's like an anchor tied to my heart and dropped deeeeeeeeeeep down. Makes it difficult to move or think of anything else. I thought I didn't attach myself to anyone or any place. But I leave my heart at home. It's normal. But that's the sad part- why is it normal?

The pain of leaving the comforts of home and the sight of my parents...is painful beyond measure.

Time is a strange thing. While I am dreading the coming few months, someone else is eagerly waiting for time to fly by. And while the last three months flew as fast as a blink of an eye for me, it went as slow as a snail for someone else. 

If I look back at the last three months which were the best retreat of my life and ask myself if I had made the best of it, I can't find an answer. I can't have enough of my mother's repeatomania. My dad's wisdom. And my little sister's bragging about me being good for nothing. And most of all, I can never have enough of my bed. At the same time, I have had the most productive time so far for the first time. hamdulillah.

Why is it so easy to leave your heart at home? :'(