So I’ve been back in Singapore for over half a year, yet it feels like no time has passed. It’s been great being able to spend time with Singaporean friends and family (especially since most of the people my age have graduated and are back in Singapore too) but the more I meet up with old friends, the more I realise that:

I miss Japan. 

In a way, I knew this was coming. When I left, I knew that I would miss things like conbinis (I don’t think I’ve stepped foot in a convenience store here more than five times – definitely no haunting it like before), Sushiro and other foods, and of course, the toilets. But I didn’t expect to miss:

the sound of noisy cicadas haunting the still summer air
the ability to hop into a car and drive to a whole new place, like Ookawachiyama or Takachiho
the seasons changing
my friends

In short, I miss the way of life I had in Japan and the friends that I made. While I do my best to keep up with at least one thing – my friends – it’s a lot harder than I expected. I suppose it doesn’t help that all the meetings with old school friends taught me that it’s hard to keep in contact with people you’re close with if there’s a long distance between the two of you. While I line my friends and stalk their instagram, I’m becoming more and more aware that, like it or not, our paths will slowly start to diverge.

It doesn’t help that all of us graduated last year, which means that we don’t have that much money. I’m probably slightly better off, because I no longer have to rent my own apartment now, but it’s still going to take awhile before I have enough money (and time) to make a trip to Japan. And I’m pretty sure that I prefer working in Singapore more, so a long-term trip back is out of the question.

Right now, I’m just hoping that I can visit while we still remember our friendship, while the talking still comes naturally.

(it scares me how quickly my Japanese deteriorates without use)

I’ve always resisted calling my place in Japan ‘home’ and preferred the term 戻る over 帰る when talking about going back. When I slipped up, I would feel guilty, as though I was betraying Singapore and my family by having another place that I was equally comfortable in. But now, I’m starting to realise that not only is it possible, but that I do, in fact, have two homes.

And I will always miss one of them.

P.s. This post was also crossposted to my other (now defunct) blog. But since it’s also a part of me, I thought I’d put it here too. (I now regret having so many blogs)