Province

It's now time for me to have my vacation, finally. Now that everything's done and over with, I can now have my well-deserved rest, my decadent time to read, my smooth conversations with friends, and my self-indulgent romances with the province.

I just arrived at Isabela today. After almost nine hours of bus ride, I am now again basking in provincial sunlight. Stepping down from the bus and having those familiar sights once again gave me that unexplainable chill along my spine, though. Inside me, a mix of emotions started to churn, like warm and cold wind starting to collide with each other.

Maybe it's the span of time of being away from the province, from my hometown. Or perhaps, it's the fear of change--that people and the goings-on in the province have changed, leaving me unacquianted, unfamiliar with everything. Or probably, it's just me, and my unfair thinking about Isabela and its people, about the slow developments in the province, about the leaders who govern, about the sadness tagging along with my memory of this province.

But still, I am here, back to where I truly come from, where life is simpler, more peaceful and more leveled out with reality. Where plates are filled with more delectable servings, where mama's and papa's hugs and kisses are warmer, where connection with friends are instant, and where consciousness is refreshed.

Indeed, despite the apprehensions of going back, Isabela has been, and still is, home to my lost, unguided self.

Albeit the tinge of sentimentality, home is still truly where the heart is.