Gin Goodbye

"Leaving, on a jet plane - don't know when I'll be back again..."

I don’t do goodbyes. Anyone who knows me knows not to be insulted when I don’t show up for farewell parties, or at the airport. You see … I cry. Easily.

I cried at every single Disney cartoon. I bawled through every Hollywood ending. Sometimes, I even cry at music videos! Don’t ask me why, but I sobbed through Daylight, that awful Sly Stallone film about a bunch of people stuck in a tunnel that was quickly filling up with water. (God, hope Samy saw that film before the Smart Tunnel was built!). I feel things, with a whole lot of emotion.

So I don’t say goodbye to people very easily. I am surrounded by people I like very much. I love with my whole heart – not just my family, but my friends and often, strangers I have barely met. I can make friends with the snap the fingers, and remain friends forever. People constantly ask me how this is so ... I've thought about it through the years, and have come up with this - I prefer to see the good in people.

Naive, I know, but my life has been enriched by so many souls, and I have very few scars to show for it, so I'm going to stick with what is obviously a winning formula.

So I avoid goodbyes, but I’m good with keeping in touch. If you have me as a friend, you’ll never really lose me. (unless you want to!)

I just don’t like thinking about stuff like … “I’ll never do this again”, or “it’ll be another 6 months before we can walk in the park like this”, or “before we can share a bowl of laksa” again. I don’t like thinking this is my last meal at La Bodega, my last Sangria, my last Ghetto at Zouk, my last breakfast at Raju’s or supper at Ming Tien.

Ah, yes, of course you always pine for things you don’t have. When I was in KL, I got depressed thinking of my happening London Life.

Now that I’m packing my bags once again, to head off to lands unknown, I look around me and count my blessings. My KL life is not bad at all. Like London, I conquered KL (again) . And I shall conquer Holland to.

I arrived in England, not knowing a soul. I left, having made countless friends, most of whom I’m still in touch with. There’s room in my heart for a lot more.

I returned to Malaysia, to find all my friends still here, with my place in their hearts, firmly reserved.

This time it will be no different. The world is a lot smaller these days, and goodbyes never mean forever.

There’s only one goodbye I ever uttered, knowing within my soul I shall never see that person again. And I haven’t.

It’s Rex’s loss.

Mr. Perfect sent me a text once, a few weeks after I had emerged from the aftermath of my disastrous relationship. He had been trying to get me on the phone all night, but I was in a noisy pub and didn't hear it ring. The text read. “I knew you would find Vix’s London again.”

I shall miss KL. Oh, it will always be home, and I know I will be back before I know it. But I have this period of time to make Europe mine, to make every last bit of this gift that has been given to me count.

I intend to make it. Goodbye, Malaysia, but not forever. See ya when I see ya~

And hello Brave New World!

I start my new life in a week. I'm contemplating starting a new blog just to record the dutch dailies, but will maintain this blog for any drunken adventures, especially of the romantic kind. I think it is safe to assume that there shall be many! Hope someone's warned Europe that this Fox is out of her Lair!