What most people hate more than Monday mornings are the last hours of Sunday.
Most people- except me, today.
Touched down early this morning in Singapore, and being greeted by my parents' smiling faces felt like Christmas morning. It's been a while since I felt this homesick.
Sometimes when I'm gone too long, coming home feels a little foreign. But it doesn't take long before I get comfortable again because home will always be home. How I've missed home cooked meals and my bed. And it feels really nice to bring smiles to my parents' faces when I gave them the gifts I got them from Munich, I think that's my favourite part of the day.
Luke took leave today, so he came by this afternoon to see me and I just felt so incredibly loved. We had burgers for dinner and deep conversations till late. How I've missed this. Nothing compares to spending quality time with people you love, no matter how beautiful the world out there is.
Home will always be home.
And this Sunday evening,
I'm finally home.
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