It is truly happening.

I am leaving, I am en route to my next journey. I am honoured that the big bosses want to see me. But why do I feel sad? Why do I feel ungrateful? 

I guess I am leaving to a new, foreign place. Younger me would be ecstatic for a fresh start. But older me knows that restarting isn’t as rosy as what people think. I am aware of the intensity, the “no-life” culture, the brutality. But I guess it’s the same thing I heard when I started here. But it turned out to be alright. Perhaps it’ll be alright too.

I was told that I am the glue of the team. But my departure would mean they would need to find another adhesive. I made the culture (at least in my team) such that we are happy. We look forward to lunches and dinner together (albeit it being farewell ones), we look forward to chatting about nonsensical things during working hours, and I’ve had the best time.

“If only I didn’t mess up.” Things I said to myself.

But amid the hurricane, I managed to secure a couple of things.

I met colleagues whom I can cherish as friends for the rest of my life. I found peace at home, a place I once hated. I found out that there are people who actually love me and care for me, and I didn’t need anything else. I found little ways to be gentle with myself. More importantly, I am now closer to the family members who care for me. I spent more time with Allah. And really, I don’t need anything else in this world.

I can lose a job I love, I can lose people who don’t reciprocate my love, I can lose anything in the world. But with Allah and my family, I know that I will be at peace.