It has been a long time since I last saw Taiwan. Nothing about it seems to have changed when I first saw it. Still people everywhere, people littered the streets, skyscrapers after another, no road rules whatsoever. Everything just seemed so chaotic but somehow soothing. I guess I've been hanging around Newtown for too long or either that I'm just use to a city life.

I didn't want to go back. I've already been here by myself for so long so why should I bother. Day after day, week after week and year after year it has always been the same, just me and myself. Even when I did have a girlfriend I didn't feel right, it's like I'm intruding on someone's family and that was especially true with alx.

First few days it was fine I was never a fan of dad's side of the family. Everything had to be perfect for them because that's the way they are. I don't hate them, I can see why they think that way but I guess you really can't choose your family. It was maybe a few days later when we visited mum's family that I started to cringe a little.

There I am, having not spoken Mandarin or heard Taiwanese in almost 7 years I was able to talk to them like I've never left. I felt welcome with them as they seem to have accepted who I've become. That night I stayed up and chatted with my aunt for hours... I don't know what about... life I spose. Through that conversation it revealed a lot to be about my grandma and just how great she is beyond how much I already adore her.

It also reminded me of family secrets and why sometimes it's best just not to talk about things. Not because we want to bottle it inside but because every time you think back to that moment it hurts like no tomorrow. My aunt is a great person too but why does it always have to be the ones who've been hurt that stand out from the rest? And if their stories were never told would they just keep on existing being a nobody?

But enough of that. The next night I chatted with my cousin and it's amazing how we just don't run out of things to talk about. Last time I saw him was when I was in year 11 or so and now he's got a girlfriend, about to do service in the army, picked up smoking, what not you just name it. It reminded me of how close we were. Alice was never really a sister to me so all I really had was my cousin. We did a lot of shit together, he is like my own brother and to suddenly realise I had not seen him for this long somehow snapped something inside of me... a wake up call I guess.

My other cousin well, she's grown up now and maybe she's going through that shy phase but to me she's like my own little sister too. We use to bring her along whenever we get up to mischief but I'm not there anymore to protect her. It really is weird how I can picture it like it was yesterday and it really is a curse. That's what drives me down most of the time... perhaps it's a pattern but I sure hope it isn't... these should be happy memories but I turn them into something that I've lost.

These few weeks I've realised it's not Taiwan I miss but my family, I can't keep pretending they're not my family just because we're not blood-related. I want to hate them for fabricating my childhood but I can't deny how much I miss what I had even if it weren't technically 'real'.

I don't know what to do... here I am getting older year by year but still a lost child just trying to find a family where he fits in best. Denmark, Australia, Taiwan, it doesn't even matter anymore, I'd be losing a part of myself if I decide to choose one or should I just keep wandering through life hoping one day it all gets better?

As for that, why exactly do I put everything in faith... what's there to hope for? I do it because I want to believe but it really is tiring me out.

Make-belief, it's all I have left. It works to some extent and I'm happy for that, there's no point in figuring out the truth when living a lie is so much more fun.