April didn’t walk in gently.
It kicked the door down, threw my plans into the air, and laughed while I tried to catch them one by one.
I had grand ideas. I was going to write. I was going to show up for myself. I was going to keep the blog alive and well.
Instead… three posts. That’s all I managed. Three lonely entries floating in a sea of drafts and distractions.
It was Raya month.
But this year, for the first time in what feels like forever, I didn’t go back to Baling.
No kampung mornings. No salam-salam ritual with Bonda tercinta.
Syawal came and went, and somehow, I missed it while it was happening.
Week one was a blur of traffic jams and rest stops. East coast roads turned into highways of nostalgia as everyone rushed back to their roots. Me included. Terengganu was the destination, and the jam? Part of the package.
Week two? Reality slapped me back.
Class resumed. Duty called.
Suddenly, I was living out of a suitcase, in unfamiliar towns, doing the thing I had to do, but with my soul still somewhere between Kuala Lumpur and unfinished blog drafts.
By the time I came home, Syawal had packed up and left.
No goodbye. Just… silence.
What did I miss the most?
The gym.
The one place that doesn’t care how messy your life is, as long as you show up and sweat it out.
But April didn’t let me. My gym shoes gathered dust. My muscles sulked. And the weighing scale… we don’t talk about her.
But May… oh May is already different.
Today is the 1st of May and I’m writing this on a train, heading to the airport.
Yes.. airport.
I’m catching a flight to Indonesia. A short escape, a new chapter, a breather from the madness of the past month.
April was chaos.
May?
I’m claiming it. One moment at a time.