Dear Diary,
I’m finally back at my parents’ apartment, after what feels like an eternity. It’s been nine days since my sister and I traveled there to see them, and I can’t even describe how different everything feels. It’s as if time has slowed down, and for the first time in a long while, It can just be—no deadlines, no rushing, no expectations.
The apartment has that familiar scent of home. The soft chirping of birds and the quiet rhythm of my parents’ voices—it’s comforting, in a way I didn’t even realize I missed. The hustle of university life is so fast-paced, and while I love being there with my two closest friends, it’s just not the same. There’s something about being here that makes me feel like I can breathe again, like the weight of everything I’ve been carrying has lightened.
It’s strange, though—how much I’ve changed in the short time I’ve been away. I’ve gotten better at cooking since living in the dorms, learning to throw together a meal with whatever I can find in my tiny kitchenette. But, no matter how much I experiment with spices or try new recipes, nothing compares to my mom’s cooking.
The world outside may be spinning fast, but in this little corner of the world, everything is calm and beautiful, just as it should be.
Maybe this is what I’ve been missing all along.