Three years in Germany. Three years in the UK. Six years abroad, and it still feels as if my life has not progressed at all.
During graduate school I had a close-knit group of friends. People from all over the country, whose lives had previously diverged, suddenly found their destinies intertwined.
L was a top student from my university. A was a shy guy who was always laughing and had an incredible singing voice. Y was not particularly fond of reading, but she could make the most delicious dumplings. E regaled me with stories about his latest crush every single day.
Back then, there was always someone to walk hand-in-hand with to the library, to the supermarket, and to catch the bus. We huddled together at freshman orientations, wandered through glowing Christmas markets, and took spontaneous trips to nearby towns. We powered through group assignments, celebrated high marks, drank heavily, and played games until dawn.
The days flew by. From winter to summer, time slipped away in the blink of an eye.
After graduation, they all returned to Vietnam and built impressive lives.
L joined a top-tier tech giant, working on one of the industry’s hottest sectors. A landed at a leading television network, producing one of the most popular variety shows in recent years. Y continued her passion for stage plays. E secured a spot at a premier gaming company.
Everyone skyrocketed into success. And naturally, amidst those remarkable achievements, we lost touch. Each of us accelerating down our own separate paths.
Six years passed, and everyone went far away.
In contrast, having stayed abroad all this time, I feel like an extended version of an international student.
I still wander around taking photos, visiting exhibitions, pondering what to eat, and lying in the park watching the clouds roll by on sunny days. I hold an unassuming job, comfortably making ends meet, but lacking the dazzling achievements that seem to define my peers’ lives.
Occasionally, when we chat, I feel like a kite left behind by fate. While they stand in neat rows receiving flowers and applause, I drift without a frame of reference, lost in the wind.
“Come back to the UK and visit me sometime!” I always say before we hang up. But I know that in their busy, successful lives, no one is coming back.
So I continue living in the same place, just like before.
Even as everything around me has gradually stabilised, and my quiet life has grown richer in small ways, my mind seems never to have completely severed ties with the ghost of my student days. My head is still full of questions. Tomorrow, though, I have to go to work and play the role of an adult.
Just like those nights years ago when we said goodbye to daylight saving time, I can only let these unresolved thoughts drift out into the long, dark winter night.