I miss Singapore.
I miss its painful efficiency, the way that three working days really means three working days.
I miss the pace, the fact that everyone seems to always be in a perpetual hurry – even during the weekends.
I miss the safe roads and peace of mind – knowing that I can walk by myself at night and I won’t get robbed, raped or both (as long as I am not in the general Yishun area)
I miss the food. Your peppery bak kut teh, the life changing hokkien mee, and Indian rojak that I pile as high as my plate and decency would allow.
Loving your food always made me feel slightly less patriotic like I am betraying my motherland somehow but,
when you have an ice cream wedged between a multicoloured slice of bread, I can’t help but fall in love.
I miss my friends. I miss their unique personalities and nuances and it’s been so long but I am still amazed at how different these people are and yet we all get along.
Sure I see all the highlights of their lives through Instagram stories but I am more interested in the
little things, the ugly, the minute things that don’t make the cut even with pretty Snapchat filters.
Sometimes I miss living away from home.
I find it a constant existential struggle living with my parents because how can I be the master of my fate and captain of my soul
if my mum still nags me to separate my colours and whites?
Most days I get by but some are harder than others.
I get tired, possibly lonely and these cracks start to appear in my facade.
I forget to remember to forget
that you don’t love me and that you never will
that you are there and I am here and I am left wondering how could a simple change in preposition, an addition of one extra alphabet can break one’s heart.
I miss Singapore because it has so much of what I love.
I miss Singapore because that’s where you are.
I am in your city. I tried calling but you do not pick up.