i’ve got two god sisters…twins that i’ve known since i was 8…through moving, through different countries, different states…we’ve all managed to keep in touch. well, i suppose it’s easier for them since they’re related…apart by 3 minutes.
to me they represent a part of my past that i sometimes don’t remember. funny thing is that we don’t sit there and reminince about the past…i think after 22 years, none of us really remember. the younger of the twins is in the states, with her husband in atl. i speak to her once every week or two…everytime i speak with her…i feel like…i dont’ know…like part of my roots is coming back. not that i think it was ever gone…
it’s a strange feeling. the same feeling i get everytime i step out of customs in taipei. an “i’m home…though this isn’t really home” type of feeling.
i don’t know…i want to talk to her…maybe because she provides me with a link to a me that’s long been forgotten.
maybe i’m just being emotional…just a little nutty i suppose.
i wonder if every child who’s been transplanted goes through this…wondering where their roots really are, where do they really belong…an maybe that’s really my problem all these years…wondering where i belong, but never really knowing where. only at home do i really feel like…that the world sees me for who i am. maybe that’s the meaning of home…a world where you can be…you. and maybe that’s why i never felt perfectly at ease in my parents’ house…for 27 years.
whatever, too much thinking…walking the boys now…
~ciao