Yesterday, I was hit by a strange realization. We were on our way to Sanrox, to drop off gifts from our recent Tokyo trip. As we drove by my old childhood neighbourhood, the familiar heart-tugging sadness was gone. At that moment, 16 years after leaving that place, M.H. del Pilar has stopped being my home.
Now, I'm wondering if ghosts have ceased to flit around my old childhood home. I would often dream of roaming the house like I used to when I was a feisty kid, that it felt as if there was something inside of me that refused to let go of the old thing. That somehow, I am the one haunting the house with spectres of memories past. I'm trying to recall when I last had a dream about the house. Nothing comes to mind.
Goodbye finally, M.H. del Pilar. My home now is where P and Gishi are.