The last month saw me being helpless, lost, and confused. A gradual transition that happened to an unsuspecting victim: me. It's 3:42am. I'm lying in bed, avoiding messages and wondering how the hell did I get myself in another sticky situation. I'm not deliberately making anyone worry, but there's nothing I can say that wouldn't give my show away.

I spent my last teenage years demolishing my depressed personality and establishing a spirited, zealous and determined self. Soon, the world came to know me as a feisty young lady, a tiny girl who remains unfazed by the massive number of unknowns this tremendous world could bring. And I'm too damn proud to admit otherwise.

Adamant and purposeful, I never wasted a single second in achieving my goals, never failed in getting what I wanted, and also... I never saw this coming. Of course the gentle change didn't escape my eagle eye. I was obsessed with being in charge of my life, and at once I knew this uncertainty didn't belong. It's not like the territory was unprecedented — I have stepped in, and out — but the mystery was redundant.

"Give yourself a break," my heart screamed. That bastard. I was overconfident, on the brink of arrogance. I thought I was insusceptible to this impracticality known as feelings. I let the exhilaration rule my clumsy mind, and I forgot to watch my step. Then it happened.

I fell.

Ironically, it happened at 3:42am as well. Battling insomnia, I jumped in bed, doing my daily routine of recalling the day's activities. Except I paused three seconds too long at a specific memory.

His smile.

I knew when I lay in bed thinking of him. Just basking in the radiance of his smile, then breaking into one myself. I knew then that I wanted to be the reason for his smile. It started being impossible to fall asleep. It was impossible to fall at all until he came along.

Falling for him wasn't like falling at all.

Falling for him was like finally stepping into Taoyuan International Airport again after six months. It's not where I belong, but the sense of familiarity was far too overwhelming for me to ignore.

Falling for him was like walking into the airport of my home country after my longest trip away. Even though my blanket of security was never entirely lifted, I relaxed and felt safe again.

Falling for him was like seeing the words plastered across Singapore's automated immigration clearance: "Welcome home, Pek Yi Tsing."

Falling for him was like realising that I was in a dark tunnel, not a deep hole.