I always find myself cherishing any kind of break. Even the short ones. Tapi kalau sem break, that’s a whole different feeling. It’s not just a break. It’s the space where I finally get to sit and feel everything I’ve been putting off for weeks. I don’t know why, but every time it comes, I always feel like I need to write something. Not for anyone, but for myself. Just to remember. Just to breathe. Just to look back and go… oh. I actually survived that.
Some people celebrate their wins in big ways. I celebrate mine in silence. I reflect. I overthink. I write long paragraphs I’ll probably delete. I re-read conversations. I scroll through my gallery and pause at random pictures. Sometimes I forget how much has happened until I really sit with it. Then suddenly I’m proud. I don’t even know of what exactly, but I just am. Maybe of how I handled things. Maybe of how I kept showing up. Maybe of how I laughed through days that didn’t feel very funny.
It’s funny how certain things only feel precious when you look back. Sometimes it’s a person. Sometimes a moment. Sometimes it’s just a regular day you didn’t even realise meant something until it passed. And suddenly you’re like oh… that was soft. That was safe. That mattered.
One of my resolutions this year which I never actually wrote down anywhere was to be more grateful. Like really grateful. For anything. For everything. For the things that didn’t work out but taught me something. For the feelings I tried to ignore but came back stronger. For the people who stayed. For the people who didn’t, but made me feel something real for a while. Even for the little routines. The awkward silences. The quiet kindness. The stupid jokes at 12AM. The pain that taught me how to breathe deeper. I don’t want to miss these things just because I was too busy surviving.
So this isn’t a list. I mean it sounds like a list. But to me, this is more like a little archive. A soft collection of things I hold close. People. Feelings. Random memories. Situations I’ll probably over-romanticise. But all of them, I carry with me. All of them made this semester what it was. And I hope when I read this back one day, I feel nothing but warmth. Even for the parts that hurt.
So here they are. Not in any specific order, not ranked by importance, just gently laid out. One by one. The things I didn’t know I’d miss until I did. The small, precious pieces that made the semester feel alive. The ones that slipped by quietly, but stayed with me anyway.
The people I saw every day, without fail
Most days, I only really talk to around eight to ten people. On average. And most of the time, it’s the same people. The same group. The same chaotic mess. The same weird comfort. I don’t know how it happened honestly, how I ended up spending so much of my semester with these people, to the point it felt weird when one of them wasn’t there.
They’re dramatic. Let’s start there. Drama is never-ending with this group. Someone is always upset, someone is always too loud, someone is always telling a story they swore they wouldn’t tell. And then there’s me. Listening. Making the most dramatic face at the juiciest part. Pretending to be chill, but I’m fully invested. People say I’m the calmest one, I’m still not sure if that’s true, or if they’re just all too loud that I automatically seem peaceful in comparison. But I think… maybe that’s just the role I play without realising. I listen. I react. I exist in between the noise.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve changed because of them. Like, if I became a bit more expressive just because I had to survive in that energy. Or maybe I became more quiet because they were loud enough for all of us. But either way, I felt like I belonged. Even on days I didn’t say much, I was still part of the story. And that means more to me than they probably know.
There’s always something happening. Some argument, some inside joke, some rant, some hug. Some people are closer than others, some drift in and out, but the core always felt the same. It felt like something solid like I could fall into it and still be caught. Even when I was quiet. Even when I was tired. Even when I didn’t have anything to give.
I don’t tell them much. Not really. I don’t sit around confessing how much I love them or how I pray for their happiness when they’re not looking. But I do. I do notice. I do care. And I do carry them with me. All the small gestures. All the shared meals. All the late-night chaos. All the random calls. All the random texts. I remember it all.
Being around them made things easier. Lighter. Fun, even when life wasn’t. I think I’ll always remember this phase of my life with their voices in the background. Loud, annoying, familiar. Like home, but messy.
Lunch hours that felt like a daily pause
Lunch hour was always a mess, just the usual “tak tahu la nak makan apa..” stress. Which is funny, considering I only ever rotated between two lauk. Literally just two. If I didn’t feel like one, I’d take the other. But still, every day I’d be stressed with everyone else over what to eat… as if I had options.
Usually it was Ecah and Qistina, sometimes Maz, Fareesya, Amir and Fendy. Always that group. Fendy would make some loud joke that no one layan properly, but he’d still continue like he had a whole audience laughing with him. And it somehow became part of our lunch routine.
I always sat at the same table with Qis and Ecah. Every single day, our lunch convo would basically be me asking “semalam tidur lambat kan?” sebab obviously I slept early and missed everything. And Qis would start cerita, giving me full coverage of what happened at 1AM. I’d just sit there eating my same two lauk and laughing like I was there too. There was always something to laugh about. I liked that. Even when the food wasn’t great.
Sometimes I’d have lunch with Maz, Amir and Fendy too. It’s a different kind of noisy loud, but in that familiar way you kinda miss once it’s gone. And Maz, without fail, would repeat all the stories she already told me earlier in the room. Like the exact same thing. Same intonation. Same reactions. And I’d just sit there nodding like I didn’t hear it before. But honestly… I didn’t mind. I actually liked it. I liked knowing she trusted me enough to keep sharing. I liked being that person she wanted to say things to, even when I already knew how the story ended.
I don’t know those moments felt really ordinary at the time. Macam nothing pun. Just makan, cerita, gelak. But now I look back and I really hope we still get to do that next semester. I don’t know if we’ll have the same schedule, or if we’ll end up sitting with different people. But I really, really liked that version of lunch. That little hour where even if everyone was moody or tired or just blur, there was always warmth. I didn’t even realise how much I needed that until it became a routine. I always felt included.
The unnamed group chat
Let’s keep the group chat name confidential, for obvious reasons. Hahaha. It’s just me, Far, and Nadiea, our little corner of the internet. To be honest, the three of us rarely have long conversations in person. We don’t really sit around and pour our hearts out over drinks or anything. Nadiea’s busy with her rumah sewa life now, and I’ve been hellishly busy (sorry Far hahaha), so our catch-ups don’t happen as often as they should. But even then, I always felt held by that space. I feel honoured, genuinely, to have a quiet kind of support like them.
The chat isn’t always active, but when it is, we talk about everything. Or anything, really. It’s Far who does 90% of the storytelling. Like, she will just drop a full trilogy at 11PM with voice notes, screenshots, all the works while I’m there giving the most random, awkward reactions or just stickers because my brain is buffering. Nadiea chimes in with her little laugh and somehow makes everything 10x funnier.
And in between all the rambles and chaos, there are always those soft little things like, “Nadiea esok pergi kelas dengan apa?” or “korang kat manaa?” or “nak turun pukul berapa?” or “kat ptar kee?” And that’s what I love about it. The chaos, the random shifts, the way we just… exist there. I cherish every single thing in that chat. Every sticker. Every bubble video. Every not-so-funny-but-we-still-laugh reply. It’s comforting in a way that doesn’t need explaining. And I think I’ll always be quietly grateful for that space.
The fear I never liked, but still cherish
Some moments, I really didn’t want to remember. But weirdly… I do. I still think about the times I had to show up to formal events alone, pretending I was okay. The ones without Dina. Without familiar faces. Just me, my nerves, and whatever version of bravery I could stitch together that morning.
Semester 4 was full of those moments. Parlimen. Official visits. Things that sounded impressive on paper, but in real life just made my palms sweat. I remember standing at the entrance, holding my phone just so I wouldn’t look lost. Rehearsing how to say “hi” in a way that didn’t sound too awkward. Hoping someone would make eye contact first so I didn’t have to. It was new. It was scary. And I think that’s why I remember it so clearly.
I’ve always said I’m shy. And I mean it. I really am. I like being in a crowd, but I don’t like being noticed. I want to be part of the room, not the centre of it. But when you’re in charge of things, when you’re the “president”, you don’t really get to disappear. You have to speak up. You have to shake hands. You have to show up, even when you want to run the other way.
And I did. Even on the days I almost cried before leaving. Even when I felt like everyone in the room had it all figured out and I was just… trying to survive. I still showed up.
That’s something I didn’t expect to cherish, but I do. I cherish how scared I was. Because it meant I was doing something real. I cherish that fear, not because I enjoyed it, but because I didn’t let it stop me. I cherish every small brave thing I did that no one else saw, the quiet strength, the shaky voice, the standing alone. I cherish the version of me that did it anyway.
The people I led (and quietly loved)
Being the leader of a club was never something I imagined for myself. I liked being part of things, yes but being the face of it? Having to lead a whole committee of 23 people with different personalities, different moods, different energies? That wasn’t in my plan. But somehow, it became one of the things I truly cherish.
Leading isn’t always about being the loudest. Sometimes it’s just about showing up. And sometimes, it’s also about doubting yourself at 12AM wondering if you were too strict, or too blur, or too… whatever. I’ve had so many of those nights. I always wondered if I did enough. If I was present enough. Friendly enough. A good enough “president.”
But what softened the doubt was when I sat down to write my reviews for each member. That’s when I realised even if I wasn’t the loudest or closest, I noticed them. Their growth. Their style. Their little wins. Some of them reminded me of who I was back then. Some of them did things I never could’ve done at their place. And in those quiet reflections, I started to feel a little proud.
Exco Akademik. I’ll be honest, academic stuff still confuses me sometimes even though I was one of them before. But Haziq handled it well. Calm. Reliable. Aimi, Hureen, Yus, and Fada — I’m pretty sure they’re loud. Just not around me. Hahaha. When I’m there, it’s all polite mode. But even if they kept it lowkey in front of me, I could see they carried their roles well. Maybe a bit takut at first, but honestly… they were the silent charms. The kind of presence that doesn’t take up space loudly, but still matters. And in an exco like Akademik, that kind of quiet balance really matters.
Exco Korporat. I called them the solid ones. Aqmal especially, you really held it down. Some of you, there’s that quiet “boleh harap” vibe. I still remember what Hajar said about me during KPO, something about how I led. And that reminder is one of the reasons I kept going. Naurah, Hajar, Dee, Abid — your presence mattered, even if we didn’t talk much.
Then there’s Multimedia. Honestly? A blessing. Hazirah just gets me. Like I can say something vague and somehow she and Hana will magically understand. It was so easy working with them. Multimedia team memang banyak main, but they also showed up. Far, Nopal, Danish — thank you for making things fun and surprising me with how well you guys did.
Exco TTK. I won’t lie, this exco wasn’t the strongest at first. But I saw your bond towards the end. I saw how you all started to figure each other out, how things slowly came together. Aniq, Adeeb, Ammar, Yusra, Nurin — you made it work. You stayed. And that counts for more than you think.
And of course!!! Dina, Faizah, Amir. I know I kept asking you guys to do a million things, sometimes all at once. Dina always helped without complaint. Faizah… genuinely one of the kindest. Always a lifesaver. And Amir sorry if I always asked you for random things and barely let you finish your sentences hahaha. You’ve been patient in ways I didn’t even realise.
I still cherish each of them. Their work, their effort, their small messages, the way they still did things even when it was hard. Even when they were tired. Even when I wasn’t always the best leader. Sometimes, being part of something doesn’t have to be loud. Sometimes, it’s just knowing you contributed. That you were there. That you mattered. And I hope, in some way, they all know that.
The walk back from meetings
Some of my favourite memories didn’t happen during the meetings, they happened after. That short, sleepy walk back at 11PM. The sky’s dark and everyone’s tired but still weirdly awake. There’s always something to talk about. Some new drama. Some random joke. Some issue from another class that suddenly becomes our entertainment.
It’s funny how those walks could drag time a little. Like we all knew we needed to sleep, but no one really wanted to go in just yet. There’d be some kata-kata semangat out of nowhere, a mini therapy session on the stairs, or just laughing over something dumb one of us said without thinking. It was chaotic in the gentlest way.
I think I’ll always cherish that the way even after long meetings, we still had space for each other. Even if it was just for that short walk. Even if it was just for five more minutes before everyone disappeared back into their own rooms.
Baking for someone
Every time I balik for the weekend, I try to make time to bake something. It’s not just a hobby. It’s how I regulate myself, how I grieve, how I process whatever I’m feeling without needing to say anything out loud. Some people cry, some people sleep for twelve hours straight. I preheat the oven and measure flour.
I think one of my favourite parts is seeing how excited Maz gets whenever I bring something. Like I’d open the container and she’d already be smiling. That kind of reaction makes it worth it, knowing that something I made with all my messy emotions ended up making someone’s day a little brighter.
I remember once I made cinnamon rolls the same day I got back from a braces appointment. I couldn’t even eat them. Everyone else was happily eating, while I just sat there watching, in pain. My teeth hurt. My heart did too, I had been missing Ibu the whole day, but in that quiet kind of way that just lingers while you’re doing things. That day stuck with me because sometimes people find joy in something that came from your sadness. And maybe that’s the irony. Some of my best baking came from the loneliest parts of me.
But I don’t mind. Not really. I think I’ve come to cherish it, the process, the reactions, the quiet warmth of giving something sweet when I didn’t feel sweet at all. I think it taught me that even sadness can be shared gently.
On suddenly being the funny one
This is so random, but apparently I’m getting funnier now??? Hahaha. I don’t even know how it happened. I’ve been going through it, emotionally unstable, constantly on the edge, questioning life like every other day but somehow in the middle of all that… people started laughing when I talk??
Maybe it’s because I mumble a lot. Or my reactions are just too much. Or I look annoyed at everything even when I’m actually fine. I don’t know. One day someone just said “eh soyaa ni kelakar laa” and I was like huh?? Me?? Okay…
It’s silly, but I kind of cherish that. Because there was a time I really thought I’d never feel light again. Never thought I’d be the person people joke with, or laugh around, or say “best la borak dengan soya”. I was too busy surviving to even think about being fun. But somehow… I made it here.
Not just the compliment but the fact that something soft grew out of something hard. And I guess that’s the best part, that somewhere between being overwhelmed, overstimulated, and overstressed… I became a little bit entertaining too. Hahaha. What a plot twist.
The quiet comfort in just… mengalah
I think I’ve found a strange kind of comfort in mengalah. Like, not in a sad way. Just in a way that makes things feel lighter. I no longer terasa over the small things. I don’t overthink if I wasn’t included in dinner plans or left out of something. I always believe people had their own reasons. Maybe they thought I wouldn’t want to join. Maybe it wasn’t that deep. And maybe that’s okay.
I’m okay sitting with anyone. I’m okay doing things alone. I don’t cling to the idea that “this person has to be my person every time”. Everyone feels like a friend to me now. Even if we don’t talk that much. Even if we don’t hang out all the time.
And these days… I can’t even merajuk properly anymore. Sometimes I do feel mad like genuinely, undeniably upset but the next second I’m already trying to let it go. I’m too tired to hold on to that urge. Too tired to expect perfect kindness from people who are also just trying to get through their own stuff. Sometimes they’re kind. Sometimes situations made them act otherwise. I try to forgive both.
And honestly, I cherish this version of me. The one that doesn’t make everything about rejection. The one that doesn’t take silence personally. The one that just shrugs and moves on. Because I used to get so hurt over things that… didn’t even mean to hurt me. And I don’t want to carry that anymore.
Academically mid, emotionally stable (kind of)
To admit it, I was super average this sem. Like, solid average citizen. But honestly? I was okay with that. You won’t see me cry over a paper or my marks this time around. Not because I didn’t care but because I knew I did what I could. And I believed in that. I believed in me.
Of course, there were moments where I felt small. Macam, “eh everyone’s scoring, why not me?” But I didn’t let it stay too long. I knew some people carried expectations, from family, from themselves. So did I. But I still wanted to be the person who made the group feel lighter. Who could still smile, even if the carry mark was… questionable. Hahaha.
This sem was tough. Like, really tough. Marks alone could ruin someone’s whole week. I saw it happen. People cried, got quiet, lost motivation completely. And I just wanted to be the kind of friend who reminded them, “Hey, this isn’t the end, okay?” Even if I said it half-jokingly. Even if I was lowkey fighting for my own sanity inside.
And whenever I felt a bit dumb, I always reminded myself that I once got selected to represent MRSM in a cerpen writing competition back in Form 3. I don’t even remember what I wrote but I was chosen!! And on bad days, it’s kind of funny how that one memory still saves me. Like, maybe I’m not the smartest in class… but none of my friends can write cerpen, so. Balance. Hahaha.
I cherish this part of me, the one who stayed positive even when I had every reason to break down. The one who still asked “jom makan ice cream!!” after getting a bad test result. The one who knew how to comfort others, even when I had to comfort myself too.
I didn’t write this to be poetic. Or dramatic. Or deep, even though I guess I ended up being all three without meaning to. I just wanted to remember. That’s it. To make sure some version of these moments exist outside my head.
Because time moves so fast. Faster than I ever feel ready for. And the weirdest part is… I didn’t even know these were the things I’d miss until they were already slipping into memory. Until I found myself craving the noise, the chaos, the random texts, the silent comforts, the late-night walks, the lunches I used to complain about, the people I assumed I’d always have around.
It wasn’t always happy. It wasn’t always easy. But it was mine. And it mattered. And maybe that’s enough to say that I was here. I lived it. I tried to hold it while it was happening. I tried to be present. I tried to be kind. I tried to love people the best way I knew how. And even when I wasn’t sure if I did it right… I still cherish it. All of it.
I don’t know what comes next. But I hope I keep finding things worth missing.
s o y a w r i t e s 