The Essence of Home
Just sweet beginnings and bitter endings
In coffee city we borrowed heaven
Don't give it back, I've never felt so wanted are you taking me home?
You tell me you have to go
In the heat of summer sunshine, I miss you like nobody else
In the heat of summer sunshine, I kiss you and nobody needs to know
The Corrs - Summer Sunshine
I flew back to Indonesia in mid-December. I saw the city lights just when the plane about to land, and the butterflies in my stomach started to make noises. This feeling of coming home. Seeing the sights of familiar old streets, faces of family and friends. My brothers and sister who always up for anything that I asked them to do. The home-cooked meals my mom makes. The long cold nights spent at my friend's gallery house. Stuck in the middle of somewhere in a pouring rain, and we still laugh the night away.
All the small things. Watching horror movies at my parents' living room with my siblings. Fighting over the last piece of terang bulan. My sister's willingness to brew me coffee each day. Our mom waking us up in the morning. Riding my brother's motorbike. For laughing until my stomach hurt. Friends like mine. Even though now we all live in different cities and countries, we always try to match our schedule to meet somewhere. And when we do, it feels as if we never part. This is home. It's mainly not about a place. It's about a feeling. A sense of belonging. I am home.