Deprival.

My dad's lived in the U.S.A. for 11 years. When I was 7, he, 2 of his brothers and 1 sister, visited us in the Philippines. They were staying for a month. When he arrived, there was a welcome home party at his mom's old house downtown. Everyone was over fucking excited like nothing bad could ever happen to us. It was a damn good time. But me? I was depressed from the first day that he came. Because I knew the time would end soon, and it would be heartbreak all over again. And that was exactly what it was once his departure hit. I couldn't even turn off the light in my room knowing that he would be doing that for me if he was still around. I couldn't even get out of bed in the morning because I knew he wasn't gonna be there to say "Want an otter pop for breakfast? Don't tell your mom!!" Speaking of, my mom's a really tough woman. I've never really seen her cry. 'Til that day my dad went back to where he lives. So you must think that we were glad to move to America to live with my dad right? Wrong. So, so wrong. I lived in the Philippines for 10 years. Yes, I brought most of my things with me when I moved, but I left my whole life down there. And it's still there now. There's just some things I'll never be able to get back. I'm happy here, don't get me wrong. But this isn't my home. This isn't where I took my first footsteps, this isn't where I spoke my first word, this isn't where I made my first friend, this isn't where I live! I feel like...in this whole life, I've never been 100% happy. When I was in the Philippines, I missed my dad. Now that I'm with my dad, I miss the Philippines. Just when I'm about to be happy...I'm not. You're thinking life isn't perfect Claudine, build a fucking bridge and get over it. Yeah, well, I probably won't ever get over it.
My whole life just always lacks something. I have the best family anyone could ever ask for...the best friends...etc. But I always knew something was missing. I still haven't figured out the whole side of it. I mean I'm satisfied. And I'm content and totally capable of being happy. But I'm not happy. I sometimes I feel like I need to be home. But then again, I can't picture my life back to the way it was when I lived in the Philippines. Can't deal with the heat...can't deal with the all-girls school...can't deal with the corrupt government...can't deal with the sky-rocketing crime probabilities, and other things like that. But still...there's just really no place like home sometimes.