Alright. I have to keep writing if I want to keep myself close with life.
Here I am, waiting for another flight to take me away from what I call "the reality". It's unexplainably different from what I'm used to now. Although I believe that human beings have amazing adjusting ability, I have to tell myself to fit in. And it's not something you tell people, which makes the whole process even harder that it's already is.
My main motive of this unplanned short visit is my dear grandmother, who I love and respect. I didn't feel that intense love until I heard her illness. I just couldn't stop myself from being sad and permissitic. What if she can't last this winter? What if this is the last time I'm ever gonna see her. After kissing her goodbye today, I couldn't wait and burst into tears before I even got the elevator. 48 hours' flight in total and it's totally worth it.
Time to board, leave it to Paris then.
It's definitely good to have some language distance.
