Euphoric Fatigue (euphoricfatigue) wrote,
Euphoric Fatigue


Monday, September 11th, 2006

“Another summer day,
Has come and gone away,
In Paris and Rome.
But I wanna go home.“

I let you listen to this song a couple of days ago, and you said that it ’sounded quite nice’. But you wondered what was special enough about this song, that I would take special effort to let you have a listen. In truth, you had heard this song before, just that you had no recollection of it.

“May be surrounded by
A million people; I
Still feel all alone.
I just wanna go home.
Babe I miss you, you know.”

It was playing on that radio station that we both loved, or rather, that we could compromise on. The one that we would listen in the car as we took our long road trips down to Tofino or up to the Rockies, back then in Canada. The one that would match the gentle cadence of our car as it wound round the many mountain roads from Nanaimo through to Tofino; or as it sped down Highway 1 through the dark night as the rain beat heavily down on the windows. Back then, as we were heading home.

“And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you,
Each one a line or two:
“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough.
My words were cold and flat,
And you deserve more than that.“

The definition of home during that time was Vancouver, where we stayed. A small space of familiarity among a world of strangers; warm and friendly nonetheless, but still stranger than what we would normally be used to. And then you left for Singapore, and the definition changed.

“Another aeroplane,
Another sunny place,
I’m lucky I know.
But I wanna go home.
I’ve got to go home“

It was another month without you, 2 more weeks in Vancouver; 2 weeks in Alaska. And while I knew that I was very fortunate to have been given the chances that I have been given, to visit the places that I have been to and seen all the things that I have had the privilege of seeing, the definition of “home” was now Singapore. Warm, sunny, small Singapore. Where you were.

“Let me go home.
‘Cause I’m just too far from where you are.
I wanna come home.“

I’d play this song over and over to myself at night, listening to the lyrics and remembering the road trips, and you. When we were on the ship sailing through the Alaskan fjords and there were glaciers all surrounding us, I’d stand at the hull of the ship and imagine how ecstatic you would have been with your camera - certainly much more professional than mine, at least. Or on the train travelling through Denali, where it would be so cold because even in early summer, the Alaskan snow still blanketed the ground up north; I would be the only person standing alone outside at the back of the train watching the mountains and the lakes and the crevasses fly past, huddling under my jacket and stuffing my cold hands into my pockets. And I knew that were you with me, you would be doing exactly the same thing.

“And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life.
It’s like I just stepped outside,
When everything was going right.
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me.
That this is not your dream,
But you always believed in me.”

I still remember how we clamoured to take photos of the animals and the birds while on our road trips. The deer by the side of the road, the caribou; how we crept up behind 2 magpies in Calgary, or how I’ve got a photo of this grey bird perched atop a mound of snow en route to Jasper. Only someone like you, shares the same kind of appreciation for what I see.

“Another winter day has come
And gone away,
In even Paris and Rome.
And I wanna go home.
Let me go home”

The 1 month without you was wonderful in where we went to. But it wasn’t the same. For all the beauty and the wonder that I saw, in my heart there was this nagging feeling of unease that would grow steadily day by day, and I would count down the days. Every photo that I took, I took for you. But knowing that you couldn’t be there with me, somehow the joy was a little muted. Ultimately, all I really wanted to do, was to come back home. To you.

“And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
Oh, let me go home
Oh, I miss you, you know”

I suppose that is the overriding reason why, after one year in a place where I saw so many opportunities, I was actually happy to step back through the gates of Changi Airport. And that is why, this song has more significance than you originally thought.

“Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It will all be all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home“

- by Michael Buble - Lush
Tags: home
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