London will always be a part of me.

Dear diary,

I can't believe I'm in Malaysia. I can't believe everything that happened back in London are just now memories in my head. Maybe it's sad that they are now memories, maybe it's not sad. I don't know but I miss London with all of my heart and if I were given the option to go back there, I would. Though I can't really deny that life in Malaysia has been that bad. It's shit now and I've got no one else to blame but myself. The day I left home, Forest Hill, I cried in the front seat of the taxi on our way to Heathrow. How can I not? That place has been my home for the past 4 years, I grew up there despite only living there for only a few years. The last day I spent time with my girls was at Andrea's house and I still feel like "oh I'm going back there and play XBOX with them and play with Magneto again tomorrow." I still have that feeling eventhough I know that 1) I won't be going back there for a really long time and 2) that was the last time. Andrea's going back to Ecuador after sixth form so even if I do go back to London, nothing will be the same. I also remember that I was a prick to Vwarhe because I gave everyone long hugs and I didn't even hug her properly. I'm not sorry, I want to remember her that way; pissed off at me but still very patient despite me being a dick to her.

I miss her. I miss them, I miss my life back there. It's been three weeks since I came back but it feels longer than that. I always think about what I'd be doing if I was there, probably panic for results day (which I kind of am no matter where I am), go to Camden and wander aimlessly at the same shops, hunt for boys, argue over stupid things, go over to Viviane's house and do nothing but most of all, I miss my cousin. Even though she's only an hour away from me and I spend about a week at her house the other day I still miss her the most. I miss sleeping next to her everyday, I miss listening to her depressing stories about her love life and I just miss her. Anyways, life in Malaysia. The first week was hot, very hot. Every time I took a shower, I was still sweating which I thought was really weird. I didn't even think it was possible but yes, even when I was showering I was still sweating. It was that bad. The second week was wonderful, I slept over at my cousin's house on Sunday and possibly had one of the best week of my life. I made friends with wonderful, funny people and I never thought I'd fall in love. I mean, fall in love, deep in love in just a week. Stupid, I know but I don't think I care.

His name is Abbas. I've never actually felt this way about anyone before and I love him, I actually want a future with him. By that I mean, if my love with him ends I'd probably die single or marry someone whom I won't love as much as him. I now understand the pain of people who are in love, it makes you weak but you continue to love the person anyway because it makes you happy. I wish last week would repeat itself over and over again, it reminded me of London, of how happy I felt and of how invincible we were; all of us. But sadly, life isn't always rainbows and unicorns, it's also a shithole and hell for some people. I wish I hadn't fucked it up, I wish I'd say 'next time sayang' to him (sayang means love) and none of this would've happen but it did, and that's fucking shit. Anyway, it's Eid soon and this is the first time in four years I'm celebrating Eid in Malaysia. I wish I can celebrate it with my boyfriend, my Amsyar and my Ammar. Hopefully I can. I really wish for the best for myself here in Malaysia. I miss London so much, it will always be a part of me.