I lowered the cab window to smell the rain. Rarely do I get to be under a rain in Singapore. Somehow it’d only rain during office hours and rain is just a cause of nature that wetted the corner window. Smelling the rain after so long is like a forceful blow that brought back years of memories soaking under the rain with my friends. I never realized it before, but you can only stay in the pouring rains with people you are close and comfortable with, people that won’t blame you if you both get a cold and can just laugh about it the next day. The streets were often empty as we rode our bikes under the rain and got soaked laughing with no volume control. I miss my friends dearly, and the intense connection I have with them.
Even though I love my life now and thankful that I got to be here, it is still only the thought of home that gave me that sudden burst of joy, that moment when you could feel your heart physically expanded for a tiny moment before sizing back again. I guess the reason is because my whole life up until the moment I arrived at Singapore was just purely 100% my childhood. And like all people’s childhood, mine is and potentially will be the fondest part in life, because it is limited, gone, but still vividly stored like polaroids in a shoebox.
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