To love, to Happiness, to Indonesia

It's so ironic that the greatest pain in the world stems from our love. An inherent contradiction in this joke that is the world. The heavy feeling in my heart that I was too scared to name manifested itself in the phone call I had just now with my parents in the simple form of tears. As I spoke of my bapak, ibu, and adik, as if it was only natural, my voice started breaking without my control and the next thing I knew, there was suddenly a reason why I needed to use my sleeve to wipe my face. The love I gave them, I gave it all without restraint, without second thought, without caution. Now that my heart is slowly breaking into pieces every time I go to sleep, knowing that I have one less day in their home, do I regret it? Do I regret loving them? No. That's like saying I regret every laugh I have shared with them, every prank we've pulled on one another, every family outing, and every single piece of happiness I have had in these past 1.5 months. No, it's only as painful as I was happy. To know that it hurts me to much, I should be grateful that I was able to feel the same magnitude of joy and happiness. Their memory will be with me forever. To Indonesia, where my love will always remain.

In other news, last weekend, I found paradise. Seriously, it was like I landed in a Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I got off the boat, walked the white sands, and asked my buddy, "Where's Johnny Depp?" I'll talk more about my weekend in paradise next time. Heartbreak and paradise don't mix too well together in the same post, they'll only take away from each other.