her farewell
As I stood there at the departure gate, watching the sight of Yanie disappeared in front of me, I kept repeating in my head that I finally have to believe that she really has left. I would never imagine to come to the day when I'd be left on my own without my supporting scavengers. It's not like we'll never get to meet each other again, heck we already set a date to meet up in KL once I'm home in a week's time. It's the thought of going through another year here all by myself without the one I'm really closed with that made me became heartbroken than ever.
I remember arriving in Dublin barely knowing anyone at all. I came to term that I didn't really mind being put anywhere, as long as I can breathe and study, a little uncomfortable would always do. I was luckier than I thought I'd be, having to meet people who really cared for me. Maybe it was our survival instinct that came into play, or we were just two plain simple person who really connects, we fastly became best mates. People who don't know mistaken us for old friends when the truth is we only met eyes to eyes the first time when being introduced to each other hours after stepping into this country.
I could just brag more about things you won't find significant. But to me friendship was the thing I cherished the most being away from my family all these times.
So here's to the blank moments in early med school when we didn't know how to spell xiphisternum, to the early morning walkings along the cold canal and coming in late for the 8.30am anatomy classes, to the panicking an hour before the first pharmacology exam when we prayed hard the past years questions to come out (of course they did not, and we failed badly), to the miserable moments of the first professional exams, to the scary Amsterdam experience of being stranded in the middle of the red light district and didn't know what to do, to all the laughings till we can't talk anymore, to the comfortable silence we had, to the tears that were shed in times of difficulties, to the tears that were shed for the joy of success, to the happy hours in the kitchen, to the planned un-surprised birthday surprises, and I think above all, to the unplanned sisterhood that speaks for itself from the very beginning..
Thank you for always being there for me, I don't know how do I deal without you next year.
I remember arriving in Dublin barely knowing anyone at all. I came to term that I didn't really mind being put anywhere, as long as I can breathe and study, a little uncomfortable would always do. I was luckier than I thought I'd be, having to meet people who really cared for me. Maybe it was our survival instinct that came into play, or we were just two plain simple person who really connects, we fastly became best mates. People who don't know mistaken us for old friends when the truth is we only met eyes to eyes the first time when being introduced to each other hours after stepping into this country.
I could just brag more about things you won't find significant. But to me friendship was the thing I cherished the most being away from my family all these times.
So here's to the blank moments in early med school when we didn't know how to spell xiphisternum, to the early morning walkings along the cold canal and coming in late for the 8.30am anatomy classes, to the panicking an hour before the first pharmacology exam when we prayed hard the past years questions to come out (of course they did not, and we failed badly), to the miserable moments of the first professional exams, to the scary Amsterdam experience of being stranded in the middle of the red light district and didn't know what to do, to all the laughings till we can't talk anymore, to the comfortable silence we had, to the tears that were shed in times of difficulties, to the tears that were shed for the joy of success, to the happy hours in the kitchen, to the planned un-surprised birthday surprises, and I think above all, to the unplanned sisterhood that speaks for itself from the very beginning..
Thank you for always being there for me, I don't know how do I deal without you next year.
|