I’m going to the University of Warwick in September.

I’m leaving Singapore. I’m leaving NTU. I’m leaving all the beautiful people I have with me here.

I will withdraw sometime this week.

I’m going to Warwick. To chase my dreams. To reach for a life I have always wanted. All that heartache, that anxiety, that self-flagellation, the tears shed, the working hard, the wishing hard, the internal struggle between reality and idealism, it all cumulates

here.

It is only when I know for certain that I will be gone before the week is over – though it hasn’t quite sunk in yet – that the intensity of the love I have for this treasured group of people finally unravels, and I suddenly feel the impending loss.

Of course I’m happy. In a stunned, frozen kind of way – in a way that is easily overtaken by this wave of resonating sadness in half a heartbeat.

Perhaps the colour of my perceptions should begin to change…but I cannot figure out how.

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