I was doing well back home.

After 33 years, I can pretty much say I was able to do accomplish a lot of my essential dreams:
  • Buy a house for my parents
  • Buy a car for my parents
  • Provide for my family
  • Put my niece to school
  • Travel with my family
  • Write a book
  • Write movies
  • Write TV shows

I also have the same friends I've had since elementary, high school and college. There are times when our communication gets interrupted but it has been pretty much an intact friendship regardless of the frequency of our "get togethers".

I was doing okay. I was happy.

So everyone couldn't understand why I was leaving. After all, I was all set with my plans. I knew I was adopting a child if I get to 40 and I am still single. By that time, I estimated I would have enough savings to secure my child's future even if I don't work another day in my life.

Yet, I packed my bag to an unknown future.

I told people I was doing it because it's something "new".

The fact is that I am just as clueless as they are. I am not sure why I decided to leave. All I know is that I have to do it. I had to get out of there.

And so here I am, almost 8,000 miles away from home. This is what I wanted, this is where I wanted to be. This is what I fought for.

Now what?

I have no idea what is going to happen. I honestly can't see anything in my future here. To a certain extent, that's a good thing. I have this weird thing going on - when I am able to visualize something, it doesn't come true.

But maybe... just maybe... I am unable to "see" anything in my future because I personally don't know what I want.

And maybe... just maybe... when I discover the why, the what will follow.

You'll know when I know.


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