A Message

It came in the middle of the night, out of the blue. A message from a friend back home (if I can still call that place as home). Not that it jolted me out of my sleep, I slept like a log and only noted the message when I got up to use the toilet. I could guess who it was from, even in my blurness of mind. It could only be him. A mutual friend who always never fails to remind me of someone else. It isn't his fault, even though I won't be sure whether he still keeps in touch with the other person. I have stopped asking though my every single conversation with this friend would leave thoughts lingering in my mind. I still think about him, but thoughts of good will like what you would normally bring up in conversation with old friends when catching up with not only our own lives but with others' who were not present with us then. Those kind of thoughts.

Yet surprisingly this is not the first message from someone I know beyond the vastness of sea that separates the place I reside now, and the place I can once say unaffectedly as home. Another was sent to me not long ago and asking for my date of return. Yes, I would very much like to go back and have a look, but I would be daunted as well by what would greet me when I get back there. Still, to return is only a matter of time, and the message is very clear: I am very much missed at home.