words fail me.

it's been almost two weeks since term began here at Guelph for me, and i still don't know where to begin. while in some ways it's been by far the most exhilirating two weeks of my life thus far, the effects of being so far away from all i love is beginning to take its toll on me and oftentime, i wake up in the morning just a gigantic ball of tangled up emotions. here, i have all the time in the world to do things, and yet, i just don't have the desire or ability to do anything else other than contact my loved ones back home daily and while my hours away with them - either online, or on the phone. i do realise that this attachment to home could be hampering my exchange experience - after all, if being so homesick is such a big thing, why come all the way here to mope and moan? i am bereft of words, and even if i had them, i'd be unable to wield them to form some sort of coherent explanation for my bizarre behaviour here. perhaps i miss both the figurative and literal warmth of Singapore and my home too much. here, it's figuratively AND literally freezing all day, with temperatures dipping to negative double-digits daily now and people being together sometimes i suspect merely out of necessity. i yearn for warmth of any kind, i really want to make something out of this and not be a pathetic victim of circumstance. i should have more desire to do stuff, and at the same time, i should have less desire to do stuff too. i expect, and am disappointed. i cling on to every shred of news about things going on at home as if it were a life raft, all the while knowing that with every passing day, the memory of me in my friends' minds back home fades a little more. i wonder if people miss me as much as i miss them, knowing that perhaps it's just not a fair question to ask because i'm here, all alone, whereas the reverse isn't true. i question myself on a daily, even hourly basis here, wondering if i'm doing things wrong or right. and i try to create warmth in my room by curling up into a ball at night in my bed - but to no avail. it just seems like everything i try to do just doesn't work, and i'm frustrated out of my mind. perhaps all the stories you hear about exchange is really just a myth, because i am NOT having the time of my life here at all. the realization of that just makes me wonder at whether i'm just a freak, or whether everyone else was just embellishing. 

so then, life makes me wonder. half way round the world, when you are in bed and the sun is shining in my face. this is what i was afraid of when i formed attachments to people, and this is what i'll be afraid of forevermore. i love, and it hurts to be away. it hurts so badly sometimes to feel, and i half wish i didn't, because then starting anew wouldn't be so hard. it's when you know you've left something better behind - that's when you're stuck in a stalemate because everything forward just doesn't cut it. and so, i'm stuck here, unable to go back home and unable to move forward as i should. and it hurts. especially knowing that i've spent a substantial amount of my parents' money to come here and mope and be sad and be pathetic. i tell myself everyday to not be sad, to not be homesick - but at night when i'm talking to all back home, my resolve crumbles and it's all i can do to not bawl my eyes out from sheer misery and loneliness.

sigh. what a pathetic picture of me i've painted. i wish i could spin some other story up, something more befitting of an exciting exchange experience. but that, would be a lie. but then again, aren't all stories somewhat untruthful to some extent already? words fail me.