It's New Year, again

For some reasons, I hate holidays. I hate festivals. I hate them even more when I'm single -and desperately available. Because it would then remind me of my being single, and thus, my being desperate. I hate that there's like this 'must' in the thin air, telling people that they should celebrate - with friends, with beloved ones, and so on. Don't get me wrong, I'm a celebratory-person, but to me, it's not a mandatory. To the top of it, I always manage to see the dark side of everything. 

I am not exaggerating.

It's new year night, as I'm writing this. Two hours more to go before the merry count-down, and yet there's already firework-sound everywhere. It's okay to celebrate. I feel the joy too. People are happy, and they deserve it. Come on, life is already hard and difficult, so people need all the joy and celebration they can have. But for me.... New Year reminds me of something else: I'm getting older. I haven't achieved anything. I made resolution of which I couldn't fulfill, so I'm pretty much a big failure. I am single, and as I'm getting older, I won't be that attractive anymore. I'm aging. I'm alone, although I'm not lonely, but still: there's nothing much I can be proud of.

Wait.. is it true, or is it just me, who wants more and more and thus, can't ever be satisfied?

People want more and more. We're taught that way: you're born, and your parents told you to go to school. You finish your kindergarten years, then suddenly you're moving to elementary school. You graduate, and then you reach your junior years, your senior high, and the next is you're in this university. You graduate eventually, and you move on looking for a job, and maybe get married. Have kids. And still, you want more. It's the same circle-of-life for almost everyone. Does that make us humanly-human, to want and crave for more?

Is it just the time to count my own blessing; to see what others don't have and to be grateful for the whole past year?

Is it just the time to still try making a resolution, to help us keeping in track? 

So, nevertheless, here's my original resolution:

I want to be a more grown-up person. I want to use my sensitive-side on a better perspective. I want to learn to try to not make everything about myself. I want to be more understanding. I want to be better. Better.

I want to have a better body-shape. I want to go to gym more regularly. I want to swim more regularly. I want to try to see life in a more optimist perspective. I want to be more cheerful. I want to be more carefree.

I want to be happy. ..

But as I'm writing this, despite of a series of wanting this and that, perhaps I should try to list what I don't wanna be:

I don't wanna be fat and ugly.

I don't wanna be bitter and twisted.

I don't wanna be anymore childish.

I don't wanna be a loser.

Well, I'm still thinking about so many dont-wanna-be. Perhaps you can help? :-)

Happy new year, all.

May happiness is truly yours.

The Source of Happiness

How do you define happiness? Being happy? 

Is it the time when you smile idiotically, when you get what you want, when you're with someone you love, or when you know everything in your life..is just fine? When you wake up to somebody you wanna be with, when you kiss good night the person you're just making love with, or when you see your kids are growing up so amazingly?


Is it in the time when life makes you hold your breathe for a while, takes your breath away for a moment, and you just feel the warmth in your chest, so warm that perhaps you wanna cry? 


Really, what is happiness? Is it external? Is it internal? Is it defined by things you can buy, or what your money can't bring? Is it defined by the guy who stands so true besides you? Is it defined by his act; for example watching a NEW MOON movie at cinema, while wearing his earphone, literally, just because you have asked him to accompany you to? Is it defined by the feeling you feel inside you when the lust has just been transformed into some sticky fluid? Is it in the moment you capture with your camera, and then you see it over and over again? 


For me, love is not happiness. Love doesn't bring you (only) happiness. Let alone marriage. So the guy with whom you share your life with? It's just a partnership, a relationship where the two of you make a pact of commitment. Things you buy? It's just luxury, and it gives you convenience. Moment so good in front of you? It's achievement. It's your blessing. 


But they're all, not happiness. They're just not. Happiness is internal. Happiness is more like, an intimate session with yourself. Happiness is like you sweating over a sport; you can't have others sweat for you. It's like the urge to pee, and you have to do it yourself, because you can't transfer it to yourself. It's like the pain. You can't share your pain with somebody else. He might be a shoulder to cry on for you; but he's never you. He might say he'd understand, but he's never you. Happiness can't be transferred. It's contagious, only because we're taught to rejoice in other's happiness. We feel happy because he's happy. But we're not sharing the same happiness... 


Pathetic? Miserable? Hopeless? No. 
All I am saying, happiness is also a choice. We can choose to be happy. Because it's all up to us. It's personal, it's intimate, and at least, we're being sincere to ourselves. Now, why don't we welcome the source of happiness within us?

Getting an Edward

I am not a fan. Really. And by all means. I don't even read the novel. My first encounter with the first book made me Ooey-gooey in a away that made me almost vomit. I didn't, thankfully, because I knew the right moment to let go of the book.

It all happened in one night: a bunch of friends bought the ticket already, and suddenly one of them couldn't make it. So they asked me, helplessly, more because they knew I was a helpful person. I agreed to go, and I really thought the movie was over-rated. So typical, so chick-lit. Yet, amazingly, all the girls in the world were crazy about the guy.

The guy was not even that cute. Not my type, at least *but I'd give a second thought if he came on me, LOL*.

It didn't take much time to conclude: A guy, very handsome in a beautiful way and outstanding, in a loner way. Smart, that he could do almost anything, yet foolish enough to do stupid things for you. Strong, that he could make you feel safe in his arms, yet so fragile that he couldn't live without you. Special, in a way that he could read thoughts, but also helpless before you, for he couldn't read you. And you're just this ordinary girl. Nothing's special with you, yet he chose you. Yet he couldn't live without you. Yet he chose to die if living meant a life without you. So romantic, that he even composed a song for you, yet creepy in a way that he wanted your blood, your life, but could somehow manage it because he loved you too much.

So, it's more like a package. You buy a thing, and after you un-wrap, you know you buy a complete set, making you so crazy in love, losing yourself, and can't seek for anyone anymore. It's like saying that you can find your prince charming, even though you're this ordinary girl with nothing special.

Girls want an Edward. PLU perhaps want an Edward.

But mostly, people forget that to get an Edward, they have to be an Edward.

They perhaps forget that Bella was actually that good, that she deserved her Edward. She's willing to let go anything she's known for years: her life, her parents, her everything. Are we that type of person? Or are we just a person who'd wait for someone like Edward, and then to give everything like Bella did? Or are we hiding in a theory that there's no such thing in this world, thus it's no use to give out everything cause it's merely stupid?

I believe in fairy-tale. But I do think that Twilight is too much.

So no, I am not in a queue to get Robert's autograph. A strip club perhaps is better.

Sampai Ketemu Lagi... :-)

kamu ingat ketika pertama kali kita berantem? ketika pertama kali kamu sebal setengah hidup padaku? Ketika kamu bilang, aku terlalu banyak curhat padamu? Dan aku minta maaf waktu itu. Itu yang kamu tahu. Tapi setelah itu, aku berjanji pada diriku sendiri untuk mengurangi curhatku. 

Lalu kita janjian ketemu. Dan ternyata sesuatu terjadi, dan aku ga bisa. Aku benar-benar minta maaf waktu itu. Karena aku merasa benar-benar bersalah. dan tidak sedetikpun aku menuntutmu untuk memahami posisiku. Karena ada begitu banyak 'seharusnya' yang sampai sekarangpun, masih kusesali. Dan terutama karena aku tak cukup punya keberanian untuk bercerita pada teman-temanku yang straight, bahwa aku seperti ini. Karena sampai kapanpun, aku tak akan bisa menggabungkan teman-temanku yang straight dan yang PLU.. 

Kemudian kamu menghilang. Entah untuk berapa lama, aku tak tahu. Tapi setelah itu, semuanya berjalan seperti biasa. Aku merasa kita semakin akrab. Aku merasa menemukan seorang A'a yang lama hilang. Yang barangkali memang selalu ada di sana. Kata orang, di blogmu bahkan, memaafkan tidak sama dengan melupakan. Tetapi aku begitu percaya waktu itu, semua yang berlalu memang telah berlalu...

Tapi kemudian aku melakukannya lagi. Aku sakit, karena terlalu capai di Singapore. Andai kamu tahu apa yang terjadi di sana. Tapi aku meminta maaf, meskipun aku mengatakan di blogku kalau aku tak merasa bersalah. Aku minta maaf memang bukan karena merasa bersalah, tetapi lebih karena telah membuatmu merasakan apapun yang kamu rasakan... Entah itu galau, entah itu kesal, entah itu rasa sepi. Entahlah. Aku ingin bertanya, tetapi aku merasa keberadaanku malah membuat hidupmu ruwet. Membuatmu tambah tak bahagia.

Aku tak pernah menyalahkanmu. Sampai sekarangpun. Aku berusaha memaklumimu, dan menyimpan rasa kehilangan itu, lalu menggantinya dengan sebentuk rasa kecewa. Kamu ingat ketika pertama kali aku bilang kecewa padamu? Kamu malah mengusirku, dan mengatakan bagaimana dirimu tak pantas menjadi seorang A'a bagiku.

Ah, kamu tahu, sakit sekali rasanya mendengarmu mengucapkan kata-kata itu. dengan begitu mudahnya. Tapi sekali lagi, aku tak bisa menggugat. Tak bisa juga menuntut. Kamu adalah kamu, dan aku bukan siapa-siapa. Dan barangkali memang tak akan pernah menjadi siapa-siapa.  Sehingga dengan mudahnya Engkau bisa mengatakan sesuatu seperti 'buang saja ke laut..'

Dan barangkali inilah saatnya untuk belajar melepaskan. Seperti hujan yang tak tergenggam, seperti pelangi yang indah dalam sesaat-nya.

Terima kasih.

Maafkan aku.

Sampai ketemu lagi di suatu ketika.

Karena kamu tahu, aku masih akan di sini.

The Right Dosage

Love is like a medicine. It has to come to a right dosage: not too less, not too much, but sufficient. A childish boy won't be too childish, a mature guy won't be too independent, a smart guy won't be too smart-alec, a difficult-to-approach guy won't be that difficult, and doing stupid things won't be stupid at all. Even a fat guy won't be too chubby, and a skinny guy won't be too thin. We all come to a point they label as 'compromising', and suddenly, we're happier than we thought we'd be.

Based on the presumption, it is stupid then, to get mad to somebody just because they think we're childish, we're too ngondek, we're too open, and we're too ugly. It is also stupid to judge people because they prefer body, because they prefer face, or because they prefer both. Everybody has their own preferences, so it's totally stupid to make it into a problem. If he's just not that into you, he's not that into you. Because when he's into you, everything would come to a right dosage, like what I mentioned earlier. And when he's not that into you, I think it's our part to let it go. It's not because we're too ugly, too ngondek, too open, too childish, like he'd say to you, but because we're simply not at the right dosage for him. We can't cure him, because we're not the medicine for him. So we let go, because he'd have thrown us, the wrong medicine, into his rubbish bin, earlier before. Have some dignity to walk out, shall we?

This guy I was talking about, the one who's offering friendship, he met his somebody a week or two ago. They had dinner. And the guy thought it was one of the best. And he really told me that the somebody was his type. Guess what?

Two days ago, I met this somebody. His name was Dan. Not Dan Humphrey, by the way, and we talked and talked. Based on his first impression, I must have met a lot of guys here in B-town. The same statement as the friendship-guy - and I was confused: Is this question merely implying me being too 'friendly' and therefore slut; or is this question merely checking if I am seeing somebody in particular, or is this question merely checking if there's a lot of competititon? Which? I really hope you could help me with this.

Anyway, I told him that I was this sweet-innocent boy, I rarely met someone here, more because there was nobody to meet. And it's true, FYI. So I asked him back the question. He mentioned some names - and it was then that I realised. I confirmed my suspicion, and I was right. Dan was the friendship-guy's type.

Let me give you his stats: 28, 186, 98. He's that fat. And you know what? Dan thought that the friendship-guy was not okay at all. Forgive me for being shallow here, but I was so relieved. It was that second that I realised how childish I have been. It was also that second that I knew: Love is like a medicine; right dosage, right prescription, and you get cured. Everyone is special to a certain someone.

By the end of the day, I knew I was going to be better. It's really a time to love myself more, to grow up, and be a man. And the sex? Me being practically sex-less? Well, here's a quote from Ling Woo (Lucy Liu), Ally McBeal, Season 3 Episode 4:

Look. We're talking about five seconds here, okay? That's how long the big O lasts -- five seconds, sometimes six.This is so typical of men. What we want is affection, commitment, companionship, somebody to spend our days and nights with, somebody to make us happy in life. And instead, you've stayed focused on five to six seconds of a few major muscle contractions! You're a pathetic species!

Now, you tell me.

Are we that pathetic? 

Doing Trading

I am a nice person.

I don't treat jerks like a jerk. I am friendly towards old people. I am good with ladies. 
I am not fashionable in a 'too-much' manner. I am not behaving like a queen, nor even a drag. 
I am still discreet. I don't bite. 
I don't go clubbing. I don't stay up late. I don't cause a scene. I am shy. 
I don't demand nice things. I don't blab. I have my own income, which is more than enough.
Hell yeah, I am smart. I am creative. I swim. I watch movie, any kind of movie. I dont hold your hand in the cinema. 
I am romantic. I write some stuff. But it doesn't define me.

So, I am a nice person, and it ain't a bull-shit. 


Okay, I am still chilidsh. But I'm working on it. That's why I am not looking for Brondong. I am looking for a mature guy, whom I expect to understand. Or even better, to man up and to guide me instead of taking chance or hating me. 

I don't do an*l sex. I am uncut. But if it's mere sex you're looking, I'm not interested either. So, let's behave and get our own way. If you don't wanna be a friend, then I'm not wasting time on a shallow guy like you. 


I am not that athletic. And if you are, then let's hit the gym together. Don't worry, I'm not asking you to pay my membership fee. Don't worry, I'm not wearing a pink shirt saying that you are my boyfriend. I just need a trainer, and it feels better if it's you, not just any random PT.  


I am that tall. But not fat. I don't mind if you're not taller than me. Do you?



I am chinese. I look like one. I'm not planning on getting married, nor adopting any kids. A dog is okay.

And no, I am not a high quality jomblo. I am just an ordinary guy... 

.

.

.

And suddenly, it feels like a negotiation. It's like a trading. So, I gave up my 'TYPE' a long time ago. Wait, hoping my somebody to be a decent man and fair and honest is not a 'type', isn't it? Why can't people just let it be spontaneous? Or are we AJ destined to be so self-absorbing that everything has to be about us? Or is it just me, who has a low self-esteem that I even would tolerate jerks? Am I being too nice? Am I using too much feeling, thus I'm being a way too touchy-feely? Or is it just my self-defense mechanism?

Above all, is being AJ about image and sex only? Are people using sex to define their relationship? Is sex the only variable that determines it all? Sex and image? Do you see one of the neighbouring blogs? The question is, body or face. Not image or brain. Not attitude or face. I am not judging here. I am not expecting that people would behave. I admit, image is nice, but it is not that important.

So, this is my description. Not interested? Thank you for stopping by. Let's be friend, shall we?

Friendship in Q world

Recently, there's a cute guy I found over the chat-room. We talked, and he, amazingly, was being so open, so no paranoid like aj these days. Long story short, he texted me often and asked to meet me. Standard SOP, and you know it already.

So, we met last Tuesday. I was late, and he already left the spot to go to karaoke with his aj friends. He was a bit in stress, so he needed to shout it out. I went to the karaoke lounge, and we met for the first time, officially. He gave a very good impression, you know. He texted me a few minutes after we parted, asking me about his first impression. He actually said that I was cute (!). And since then, we've been texting each other so regularly.

He texted me good morning and good night.

He asked me what I've been doing, regularly.

He asked me if I had my lunch or dinner already, and if I had, what was my menu.

He asked me to go with him to the cinema.

If you're me, what would you think? What does those text mean? Somehow, I thought that maybe this guy was interested, and he's not that bad, so I gave it a chance.

I learnt, by time, that he's not exactly the guy I've been looking for. I'm not practically single, so I thought, "Hey, lets play this game."

We met again last Saturday, and he chatted a lot, again. I learnt again, that the guy was actually like me. He's looking for a mature person in a relationship. He's resenting that people in the town are being so paranoid and not fair, and therefore, being jerk. He likes being alone at weekends, he dislikes the basa-basi chit-chat. And I was losing my passion more and more. So I began texting another guy - Guys, if you ever meet me, and see me texting every now and then, it only means one thing: I am bored.

Ultimately, he told me that he's more into friendship. For friendship doesnt need too much feeling inside. Friendship doesnt need too much emotion, and therefore he could avoid being heart-broken. It is still amazing, though, because apparently, this topic has been on my mind since I was back from Singapore.

Is there really a friendship in the aj world?

I have a few aj friends, who's just friend. But we're all not in the same town. And all of them are top guys - not that I asked them their roles, but I can really judge from their types of guys.

But bottom friends??

Perhaps I should change the question: Can a bot make friend to another bot? Or they would end up fighting, yelling, and slapping each other?

No offense here, but I do think that bot aj are very much sensitive. They're going to be mad for anything simple - which is one of my reasons avoiding having a relationship with a bot aj even though I'm sexless. Here, here, I'm not making a prejudice, but that's the fact I've been observing lately. Perhaps, to some people, a sensitive and spoiled (I was referring to 'merajuk', what's the English for that?) aj could be fun and adorable. But, sorry, not me.

I admit that I am not a perfect person. I make mistakes. I do things I'm not supposed to do. I say things I'm not supposed to say - or more like, I say things in a wrong manner and therefore, wrongfully understood. Okay, I admit my mistakes. I say sorry. I apologize. And I even let the offensed party to yell at me. But then there's like never a second chance. Or is it too much to give a second chance? Or am I simply just not worth it because I am a stranger into their lives, one person that gives no use to them?? Honestly, I dont know anymore. And really, I earnestly wish that there's a manual for Q relationship: boyfriends, partnership, Fuck-buddy, one-night-stand up to friendship.

So, I was silenced when he offered me a friendship.

So, in the end, I told him that I do believe in a Q friendship. Because I have it.

And at the moment, I remember someone I've hurt for I couldnt make the things like I've promised. So, to you, I had another appointment that weekend too, and I had to cancel it, and I didn't even tell him at the first place. You know what the other guy told me? He said, big deal, you couldn't make it, at least you'd have called me, but lets move forward. And I really wish you'd say that to me instead of giving me a silent treatment.... But anyway, your choice, and I'm really tired.

Maybe it's time again to hibernate. To stop exploring people in manjam or fridae, period. I don't know.

Questions

Is it love?

How can you tell?

Is it measured by things he'd do for you, no matter how stupid it is, or stuff he'd buy just to make you happy?

Is it in words he'd say, text messages he'd send, or some sweet-nothings he'd exchange with you?

Is it about the good-mornings, good-afternoons, or even good-nights?

Is it summarized by poems he'd write?

Is it measure by the sex he'd make to you, and the post-orgasm conversation he'd chat about?

Or is it just you?

How your heart is pumping much faster when he's around?

How your head is a mess when he hasn't replied your text?

How your night gets lonelier when he's not there to hug you?

How your mouth smiles 24-hour non-stop?

How your hand hugs stuff he'd buy, or how your heart'd tell you that you'd better keep those things he buys carefully because you dont wanna ruin nor consummate it?

Or is it mutual?

How you both can spend hours just being silent, staring at each other's eyes?

How you can hug each other, without any urge to have sex at that very moment, because you know it's now more about love rather than lust?

How you can complete each other's sentence, how you both learn what you guys like or dont like..?

..

.

.

Or is now the perfect time to tell me that this all is just a dream, a silly one, that won't even exist?

But what about me?

Is it useless if I am being a romantic fool for just one more day?

Is it stupid if I'm willing to risk it all, to fall in love, and to hurt later because there's simply no such thing as happily-ever-after for PLU?

.

.

.

I don't know.

... or is it more because I know the answer but no willing to see it? To face it and then to understand it..?

Because if we deserve to be happy, why Leslie Cheung committed suicide? Why Stephen Gately did what he did?

A friend once asked me, if I'd do the same thing if I were them.

I said, NO.

And that's all I have for now........

I sent him off with so much smiles... (part 2)

They said, you'll never learn to love without the pain of a broken-heart. A broken heart somehow would make a person grow wiser, more mature, which eventually leads him become a better lover.

Is that true?

I don't know. I really don't know. All I know, there's a part inside me that withered away the day he left. There's a big dark hole inside my soul, sucking away my passion, my spirit, and my everything.

That day was actually only a week or more before the Valentine's Day. He went home late, and I was waiting for him. Two hours before, I had changed my clothes to a casual one, for I knew he wouldn't make it home on time. And he would be very tired already, that I thought it's probably the best that we spent the rest of the night together, talking, dreaming, or hugging. But it wasn't the case. Honestly, I didn't even see that this day would have come.

So, gently, he touched my cheek, and said that he had something to say....

He always had something to say. And I always got excited to listening to what he'd say........
He told me then that the thing could wait after dinner. But I insisted on him saying it before. For the last time, he gave in, and he did it as I wished.

He began by saying how I was never happy with him. I always cried whenever I met him, up to a point where he told me that he's willing not to see me again instead of seeing me cry for him, for it ached him.

Up until now, I still wished I had told him that there're two kinds of tears: the happy tears, and the sad tears.. I wished I had told him that I cried not because I was sad, but more because I was regretting our position; how I could never be with him. I was resenting his being far away, his being busy fighting not only for himself, his family, but also for me. I cried because I was touched; how could I meet someone like him; so nice and gentle and loved me that much......

Then he told me, how he could never choose between his parents nor me. He's the only son, so it's his duty to carry on his family's name, and it's his duty to get married. I told him before I was okay. But then he always said that it was not fair for me; how he's not worthy for all the difficulties I had met, and how he didn't want me to spend too much time on a relationship with no future.....

I cried. Again, without knowing why.

Then I asked him the ultimate question... whether he's letting me go.. whether he's breaking up with me...

He closed his eyes. I could see his tears, wetting his cheek.

My world stopped. My heart stopped. It felt like everything'd been transformed into falling tears..

He didn't even say goodbye. He didn't even say sorry. He just told me to cry it out, so that I wouldn't have to cry for him anymore.

He didn't come home that night. He didn't come home that noon. He came by 5 PM, and drove me to a friend's place. I couldn't stay at his place anymore, could I? Because then he wouldnt come home..

So, I sent him off with so much smile. I wanted him to remember me smiling for him, for the last time, no matter how pale I looked.

And he's right. I didn't cry for him anymore after that. I didn't cry for anybody, anymore.

Yes, I cried over some stupid movies, but not for anyone. Not for anybody. His leaving took away almost everything I used to believe in. It damaged me to some level.

Yet, there's no regret. I now smile whenever I recalled anything about him. Anything about me. Anything about things I'd done for him out of stupidity. I smiled the last time he called, telling me about his boyfriend. I smiled the last time I heard his friend told me that he's married. And I smile, for at least, I saw love once in my life.

I sent him off with so much smiles... (part 1)

Some memories are not to be forgetten. You simply can't forget, even though you have tried so hard, so willingly to let go all your past. But no matter how many times you said goodbye to that past, it keeps coming back to you. No matter how many times you resolutely decide to move on, it keeps haunting you on your sleepless night.

Or maybe it's just me.. I dont know.

All I know, I still remember how we first knew each other. We texted each other every now and then, intended to be only friends. But then I was in a bad shape. I was really devastated when JT left. He was also in a bad shape; someone he'd been chasing had just rejected his love. And we're just two persons who happened to be comforting each other. Soon, he stated his intention on me, how he wanted to take a chance on me.

So, long story short, he started to call regularly, every Saturday night. Or every now and then when he's down and he felt like he wanted to hear my voice to cheer him up. And I get used to it. And I feel in love. He's a nice guy. I was 18 and foolishly holding up to my imagination of love and relationship. We haven't even met; cheesy, isn't it? But I believed in him. And love is simply blind, isn't it?

The first time I cried with him was when I failed my test to this university at Jakarta. We're two fools who spent the night crying over the phone. He texted me more regularly after that, making sure that I was okay. That he could take a little more waiting for me..

The first time we met? It was one hour before midnight. It was the last hour before my birthday ended. He came from Jakarta to Bandung, right after his working hour, which got extended due to some extra work load. He hadn't had his dinner; he bought the only tix left, which was so expensive at the time. He didn't know Bandung, I was new; so I gave him my address, hoping somehow he would find me. And he did find me. He smiled when he saw me. I was so nervous that I didn't even remember how to breathe.I was so touched that he's willingly to go through all the difficulties just for me - I mean, sometimes, people are just giving up when they face a lil bit difficulties, right? He did stupid things but he didn't resent it because he knew I was worth it.

Then he asked me if I was still in. If I wanted to his boy.

I smiled. It was dark. So I asked him back if he still remembered the story he had told me before, about him going to Bali alone. There was a Caucasian who asked him if he wanted to be his one night stand, and if the answer was yes, he could hold the Caucasian's hand.

He said yes.

And I held his hand.

And he was like, Yiippeee!!

He kissed me that night.

He hugged me so tight that night.

We spent the morning cuddling in the bed, then he left for Jakarta.

I sent him off with so much smiles.

It was my best birthday night.

Then I returned to my dorm, taking a bath.

There, I cried. Without any good explanation. I didn't even know why I couldn't control my tears. . .   .

Well, here I come.

One thing I like about weekend is..

.. that I dont have to wake up early in the morning. I get to sleep till noon, then wake up tired because I sleep too much, and start to think what I'm going to do for the rest of the day. And voila, the weekend ends in the blink of an eye, and Monday comes again.

Anywho, I've been spending this weekend watching one season and a half of Samantha Who. I've got to say that despite the hillarious laugh I have, the most interesting part is, I get a lot of new thing to learn. Wait, do I start to be geeky again?

For some of you, Samantha Who might not be a new comedy to pick up. But for those who aren't a series-freak, let me brief you: Samantha Newly was a bitch who got massive injury in the head by a car-accident then woke up 8 days later having a retrograde amnesia. It's cheesy, huh? LOL. By saying bitch, I do mean that she's a bitch: She was so self-absorbed that made any shell-fish jealous, she was the biatch who slept with too many married-men and simultaneously cheated on his boy-friend, sabotaged her bff's relationship, and got a restraining order from one of his ex. But she had the chance to be the new her: so, she's making her redemption. She ultimately realised that she couldnt change people around her - she could only change herself.

There's this one remarkable episode in season 2 - or season 1? Never mind - where she got this perfect James McAvoy-like boyfriend. This guy was an environmentalist and rich and handsome and nice and gentle. He cared the whole world, he baby-sat a baby-lamb, he was a vegetarian, he had an electric car, and.. he refused to buy a building because Sam asked him not to. Okay, the last part is like very lebai - but please dont judge me being lebai just because you're so cynical of a romantic relationship nor your teeth hurt all in sudden. I mean it *melirik*.

Anywho, Sam felt like a sinner when she's around him. So she tried to imitate his lifestyle, even though she didn't like it. She started to live a green-life, coping with his boyfriend. Then finally, the day came: when she had to come to a park he's trying to build for kids, where she had to watch people throwing manure. Immediately after pretending sick, she came clean. And guess what? I thought the guy would yell at her, or would look at her in a whole-shallowy way, and that everything would never be the same, and that this was it.

But..

The guy said that it was okay for Samantha to live the life she wanted. That he, amazingly, didn't expect Samantha to be something she was not. That he amazingly understood that Samantha was Samantha, and he took her no less than that. Because they both knew that if anything went wrong, Samantha would resent him. And I was like, WAOW. I mean, how many guys out there are like that? How many aj's are actually behaving and wise like that?

I think that we're too desperately trying to change a guy to be the guy. I think that we're trying too desperately to change ourselves for someone we love. Change is good, I know, but aren't we supposed to accept and to love them as who they are, no matter what? For instance, you don't get married because your parents want you to get married. What happened to 'be yourself'? Is it so impossible because ultimately and eventually, being gay is all about the image - the muscles, the nice abs, the beautiful body and face? Is it too numbing that we try to be our true self? Is it too painful to accept the truth that we dont like ourselves? Anywho, I dont wanna judge - anymore.

In the end, Samantha broke up with the guy. But not because she couldn't live up to his standards. More because she was not happy with the guy. The guy might be perfect in a paper, but it doesn't guarantee you happiness. Sam's mother told her, 'If I heard someone mentioning your father, I would think that they're mentioning a fat dog. But I'm happy with your father.' This line then brought me back to certain someone who told me that he's not confident enough with his face - that he looked like a babu or something like that. And that his skin tone is too dark. I mean, besides the fact that there're guys who're lining up for him, I really wish he was only bitching up. hahaha..

Anywho, to conclude the post, I think you should all watch the latest Grey's Anatomy eps. Season six, eps 5, Invasion. It has something to do about aj relationship. Enjoy your day, folks!

And even with all his flaws..

I was on my way to Samarinda that morning. It was 6 AM, and the bus was pretty quiet, for everyone else was sleeping. I gazed at the sky. The grayish color suggested that it was gonna rain soon after, and it did. I gazed at the road, seeing almost the same grayish color; watching people passing by on their bike or in their car.

It was then that I thought of him.

How has he been? Has he been busy? What was he doing? Was he thinking about me? Has he missed me?

It was also then that I realised; I missed him.

Missing him in the way that I wished I could see him sleeping. I could hug him. Kiss him. Watching him ignoring me, and choosing the television instead. I missed his way of saying HI to me. I missed his way waking up before me, getting dressed, then kissing good morning. I missed his smile. And even, I missed him being so annoying, so selfish, so not romantic, and yet, so shy. All the things that used to bother me, now seemed so far away, and I found myself now, not resenting it. I missed it all.

Then the logical part of me asked that question: Even if he missed me, would he miss me in the same way I have missed him? Or just I happened to be the guy in the right time, even if I was not THE ONE he's been looking for?

I knew I was not supposed to be whiny. I was not supposed to look for his mistake. But then, if he's flawless, then he's not right, is he?

I smiled all along my way.

Partly because I felt that for the first time, love could also be releasing.

I was the guy who didn't believe in long distance relationship. More because my first didn't work out well. But this one, I do hope that we're going somewhere. It's too early to conclude anything, I know, but I would still let myself to believe in it. I would let myself fall again.. I would...let...myself...love again.

To add the reason of my smile, I recalled the first time I knew I loved him. It was at this particular hotel at Pecenongan, Jakarta. I booked the wrong date for my flight, and I had nowhere to go. I couldn't go back to B-town, because I have said goodbye to them. It's not funny to say goodbye twice. So, I texted him. And he invited me to his hotel.

He was right there at the lobby.

He was waiting for me.

He smiled when he saw me.

And I knew, I loved him.

I knew I was safe in his arm.

He brought me to his room.

We cuddled. We kissed. We hugged.

It was also the night when he first told me that he loved me.

You know, I was always the person who would halt myself everytime someone told me he loved me. I would take a pause and ask myself, WHY?, IN WHAT WAY?, HOW?, and so many more.

He asked me then if I loved him.

I smiled.

He said that if I did love him, I could kiss him mouth to mouth; and if not, I could kiss him in the forehead.

I kissed his lips.

And even with all his flaws,

I knew I wouldnt regret.

 

Over-rate-ism

Love is over-rated. With love, you cant buy your food. You cant buy your career. Your dream. Your health. Your wealth. Your regret. Love is a currency with no value. The straight thinks that with love, there comes free sex -or they say making love as the euphemism just to compensate the so-called meaning and happiness, but the truth is, it is not. You buy movie tickets, meal at fancy restaurants, and even balance for your phone. You spend money. And the sex isn't always good. So, at the end,you dont sell love, let alone put an additional word before it, such as true or endless. And so, yes, you could live without love.

With love, you have an excuse to grow old. It seems so. But actually, it is not. You're merely trading. You accept him being old,and in return, you expect him accept you too.

Another reason to say that we're all foolish enuf to fall in love, is how we welcome the misery. We want the misery. We love being foolish. That's our life. So, love is over-rated.

Guys Map

Near my dorm, there is this big hospital.
It means, lot of doctors.
Medical doctors.
In white uniform.


Across the hospital, there's this police office.
Polices there are all young and hunky.
Well-shaped.
I've seen them doing morning report.
They're all in tight uniforms.
Young police-men.


At my working place, there are tons of caucasians.
Cute. Young. Blue eyes. Hazel eyes. Tall.
Great smile.
Expatriates.



Now, the ultimate question
.
.
.
why the hell am I still single?

JEALOUS!

Seriously.

WHY DOES THAT BITCH OVER THERE HAVE A BOYFRIEND ALREADY AND SEEM HAPPILY EVER AFTER?




Grr!

They're Together.

It was a nice morning. It was quiet, and I was in peace. Everything was like heaven. I checked my facebook, my personal e-mails, my professional e-mail, and then started doing my morning report. Have I told you that my boss is a married hottie?

Anyway, I was struggling over a small thing at my facebook when I saw today's Highlights. I saw a picture of two guys, topless, hugging each other. The top was pretty cute, by the way, but A'a thought that the bot guys was more okay.

So, out of curiosity and being a busy-body a bit, I clicked the picture. Guess what? It was not only a picture. It's a whole set album of the two guys, consisted almost like 20 pics. I was silenced. I was shocked. I was bothered.

Silenced because I didnt really see that the top guy would choose this sentence for the album title: My Love of My Life. Ignore the grammar, though, as we know that he was trying to be cute. And adorable. And he succeeded.

Shocked because it was FACEBOOK. Hullo, people! I know social networking is THAT practical, efficient, and effective, but do you really need to go in public just like that? That you really need to burst out every detail of your private life to millions of strangers out there in the world wide web?

And eventually, bothered, because THEY'RE TOGETHER. THEY'RE HAPPY. When was the last time I ever saw anybody that happy? That completed? That protective? That contended? Frankly, I don't know. I don't remember..

It was time before I looked at myself. It was also then that I realised how I am not okay. How I have been trying to find excuse to compensate my being single. How I choose the 'reserved' or the 'date high' and then blame it all on chemistry just to get an easy exit. How I simply said that I am not an insecure person who prefers to wait for the fairy tale to come true. How I twist every words and accuse every men of their unfaithfulness.

And there I was: sitting on my desk, feeling HOW STUPID I HAVE BEEN. HOW PATHETIC I HAVE BEEN. I shaked my head. I let the simple yet sweet picture ruined all my morning. Gee, guess I do have a lot of lesson to learn.

While I should have been looking at the bright side, I actually almost cried.
If they can make it, if they can show to the world that they're happy, why can't I be happy? Why can't I find someone for me? Someone who would take me as I am even when I am just a freak or a total loser?

Question is, WHEN? And HOW?
Promise. When I found him, I'd stand up being a witness to the existence of love.
So, dont be afraid or shy to share your stories too.

Date High

Honestly, and seriously, I have never done drugs before. And I dont plan on doing that in any near nor far future. So, I dont really get to say nor comment nor judge anything about getting high. But, I do know things about serotonin and dopamine. Relax, I wont depict anything scientific here - my point is that I get a picture about being high.

And that's what I feel whenever I begin dating. Whenever I am out to meet my soon-to-be date, or whenever I see him naked for the first time. The first kiss. The first touch. First sex. Anything that comes at the first time. It gives me anxiety and basically makes me forget where my feet are. It's like when you're getting drunk. You forget everything else - your life, your lousy love, your problems, anything.

I am not saying that I am being another escape artist who fears the commitment. But really, first dates, first kisses, all that come first, really give me this much fun. I dont have to worry anything else. I dont have to get jealous. I dont have to be insecure about myself. I dont have to be any other person but myself. And probably that's why I enjoy more any open relationship.

By saying open, I am not referring to you-can-see-other-people-because-I-do-see-other person-too. My selfish version of 'open' is that hey-lets-get-intimate-but-please-dont-say-you-want-a-relationship-with-me-nor-you-love-me. At my previous posting, I'd refer it as 'reserved', instead of 'in-a-relationship'. But those skeptical and cynical people - well, I think they would simply say 'engaged-with-a-fucking-buddy' - that is, someone you regularly sleep with, without string attached. A mutual relationship based on sex.

I am not proud of what I am writing here. But I do think that we - male species of Homo sapiens, are created with the need of challenge and adventure. We need the adrenaline. Moreover, unlike the female species, we're not created with the ability to endure pain and anxiety. We might have the 'durability', but we're not good at it. In my opinion, females are created with better emotion management, thus they can handle any baggage that comes with a relationship better. Plus, they have better moral compass.

We? The male? I am not giving excuse to justify our unfaithfulness. Admit it, we're not created to be faithful. But so what? It's not time to be a drama queen. So many people are being single out there, and they're fine. They may look around and wondering how happy any couples are, but believe me, dont ever cross the line just because you're lonely. And who said that couples dont have their own problems?

Truth is, everything around us is messy. Being single is messy sometimes, but it has its perks. Being in a relationship may make you seem completed, yet it comes with problems too. Having a fucking buddy? Is it a win-win solution for being semi-single and semi-taken? LOL. You tell me.

Desperate Gayboy

A friend of mine once told me that I'd make a good actor if there's a gay version of Desperate Housewives. I didn't give a damn about it, because at the time, I was not a fan. I didn't watch the show regularly. I thought that watching the girls struggled for love and relationship was a bit of out-of-my-league.

But I do now. In fact, that's one of the many reasons that I don't update my blog regularly. *grin*

Well, I used to be a person who considered himself as 'not-desperate' enough to do dumb things. Hey, I might be dark and twisted, scary and damaged, drama-queeny and in-denial, but at least, I am not desperate enough. But after watching the five seasons of the show, I could really tell that I AM DESPERATE.

How so? Lets see.
I am the gay version of Susan Mayer (Teri Hatcher). I am clumsy, I believe in fairy-tale, I am not really good in handling people, and at the top of all, I am not capable of being happy. I have a tendency to sabotage my own relationship. If everything is going too smooth, I would find another reason to bitch around, to not feel contended, and then looking forward for another drama to come. Then when everything is too late, I'd feel sorry, I'd regret all the things I've said and done, and I'd dwell in the past. I am insecure all the time, because everyone just does better than me. The worst? I keep sending mixed and wrong signal that most of the time, I drive people I like away and people I dont really like closer.

Now, on difference worth-mentioning here is that in the show, there were 5 guys (five, right?) approaching her. Karl, the first ex-husband, a lawyer who cheated on her but then realised that she was the love of his life. Mike, the second ex-husband, a plumber who loved her more than himself that he understood her that much, a gentleman who'd look after Susan from afar. Ian, an editor (editor or publisher?) from England - Gosh he had such a lovely dialect - who fell in love just twice. Ron, a medical doctor, who finally left her for he realised that her heart couldnt contain another man than Mike. And finally, Jackson, a painter who asked her to marry him so that he wasn't deported back to Canada. Obviously, Susan chose Mike. But you know who I'd choose? Either Ron or Ian. Ron, because I have a silly obsession about doctor things, and Ian, because he has a sexy dialect.

I am desperate, aren't I? Childishly desparate in a dreamy manner. I hang myself so tight to my silly fairy tale dream, seeking excuse that it's okay to believe in a fairy tale, that there really is a 'happily-ever-after' awaiting in the end. It is okay, let me be clear. But it's not right to throw away any chance to be happy right now, at this very moment, just because the person we're with right now can't live up to our dream.

The very same friend -who told me the desperate gayboy thing- also said that it's better being alone than badly accompanied. But I am not Edie Britt. Nobody's perfect. Nobody can be like what we want. And now it's time for me to compromise.

How about you? Which desperate housewives are you?

Excluded..

You have a boyfriend. You have a loving family. You have caring friends. You have a job that could afford you some luxury you've been dreaming of. There's nothing wrong with your life. It's not perfect, but you could deal with it. You go to office in the morning - which you hate, because you prefer to sleep till noon - and then get back in the evening: tired, but happy because one day at office is officially over. The town you live in? Boy, it's not like what you really want, but you still could cope with it. So, you tell yourself: I am fine. I am fine. I am fine. Repeatedly, just to convince yourself. Three times, just to make it sound sturdy.

But have you ever had a feeling like you're somehow excluded? That somehow there's something missing in your life? Well, I am not being a drama queen here, nor greedy. I do count my own blessing. I do express some gratitude everyday. Yet, there's this hole I just dont know where and how to fill it in...

No, I am not being mellow again. I am lonely. I am desperate. I am horny. Yet soon as all the lust has been transformed into the orgasm, all the joy and feeling are just gone. The room inside my heart is suddenly empty and silent again. The me suddenly is not so crowded anymore. And somehow, I feel guilty. Guilty for not being better. Guilty to let the lust take in the way. Guilty that I am not with my boyfriend. And to the top of it, guilty because.. I am gay...

There's no single moment passed by without me wishing that I were not a gay. But this is not a choice. Because there's no option. I need to fix this. I know it. Or I am going to explode, pretty soon..

Everything lies in silence..

It was like waking up in a cold dark room. All you can see is in white, black, or gray. You gasp, you try to take a real deep breath. Yet somehow, the air is not there. The oxygen is missing. And when you look around, you see him. Him, standing over there, watching you. No smile, no same familiar look. No warmth, no anything.

But this time, you dont feel the pain. You dont feel the fear. You feel nothing. Because your system recognize this all. You know this. This is familiar, as years ago, it has happened. You just can't believe that everything's just coming back to you. So you stop looking around. You throw your gaze to him.

Everything is just.. a mere silence.
It doesnt take you long that you finally realize. There's a missing piece. A missing piece that makes your puzzle can't be solved. A missing piece that takes your happiness away. A missing piece that reminds you maybe your journey hasnt reached the happily-ever-after. That perhaps, you have to keep going.

You thought this time would be different. You thought there cant be anything wrong. But time tells you that you're wrong. Time proves anything to you, even those that you choose not to believe.

So the only thing left to do is to choose. To let go, or to stay silent. Silent, until something happens. Anything....



I choose to stay silent.

All About Insecurity

My boyfriend (there, I used the word again. Still feeling kinda strange, though) was on an outbound training for the past three days. He returned yesterday, and I was glad that I texted him the day before, asking his availability. Guess what, I am not miserable at all. I am looking forward to seeing him again very soon, and playing some dirty tricks.

So everything was fine. Or, I thought fine. Usually, when everything's so damned smooth, I start bitching around about anything. And, unfortunately, that happens too, now.

Everything begins as it was my birthday today. He called me this morning, saying happy birthday to me, and then all his sweet wishes on me, and some on us. Then he asked me if I want any present. I told him that I didn't want any present. He was okay at first, then soon, he texted me again, saying he was at some kind of plaza, and he's looking forward to buy me something. That's sweet. Thoughtful. But is that necessary? I gave up, and practically told me what I currently plan on buying. I didnt know if he ended up buying the thing, but I certainly hope that he didnt.

And this little thing has made me thing. I dont wanna find any excuse, which is so lame. But it's just that giving gift is not a habit in my family. My mom has never given any presents at my birthdays, because there's never been any birthday party at home. We never celebrate. It's just the same ordinary day, from year to year. My parents didnt even give me any presents for any academical achievements I have accomplished. Never. I grow up thinking that having had my parents is already a gift, being born to the world is already a blessing, and my academic achievements were all something proper, not extraordinary. By saying proper, I mean that I should have accomplished those, because my parents are giving their best to put me in school. So, no gift. At all.

The point is, I dont really understand how a gift or a present could be tied to showing that you care for somebody. It certainly proves that you're sweet, you're thoughtful, but does it prove it anything else? Does it serve as measurement of anything?

Oh yes, I know I have been a bitch. I didnt tell him all this. I know that I have made this becoming much more complicated than it already is. Which is, at the end of the day, I know I have something to work out here in my department. I wanna love him in a better way. :-)

Perks

It's almost a week since the last I saw him. And it's not that bad like I've thought. I miss him though, but not to the extent that it starts becoming a burden. I dont know about him, but I do knew that he sounded very very much extra spoiled the last time I called him, which was about 10 hours ago.

There are three things that amaze me right now.

First, I have had a long-distance relationship before. It was not convenient, and I have even come to a decision where I don't believe in a such relationship anymore. Still, I choose to give it a second chance, and here we are. I complained much about him before, this relationship is official, but then I realised that this all is not easy for him too. I know that I have been very childish, and I have been trying to gain a new perspective. Thing is already hard, I wont make it harder for anyone. I'll try my best to hang in there.

Second, usually I feel that someone being spoiled with me is ooey-gooey, but this is not the case with him. He demands some care and attention from me, and I guess it's normal. If he's my shoulder to cry on, then the least I could offer is a lap for him to sleep when he's so tired, right? I ain't say anything about business; it's not like I-am-doing-you-A-so-you-should-give-me-B. A relationship should be mutual. But you know it already.

Third, he sure changed a lot. He's silently figuring out a way to reach out to me. What I say matters much for him. He keeps all the sweet SMS I have sent him. We cuddled all night long, and no lust involved. This is new to me. I dont feel guilty anymore.. And it's not like because he happens to say things I wanna hear then I wanna be with him. The night I met him, I knew that I missed him badly. I found out that his hug was the safest place all over the world. And at the moment, I realised one other thing; I know everything's gonna be fine with him around.

Dear Someone

Yesterday, I texted him:
Dear sky, please tell him that I miss him a lot. Let him have a nice and safe flight, always. Please tell him that I am fine here..


And he replied this..
Dear Earth, there's someone special named Ed. Please keep him safe and let him be in the right way. Because I am travelling for Europe and South Africa, so far away from him... I trust you to take care of him....

He always knows how to bring my smile back. He always know how to make me burst in tears. He always understands me the way I am. And I always miss him. Though he's very far away, I haven't felt any burden at all. I am not feeling too melancholic. Nor feeling guilty for not being by his side. I miss him, but in a way that the longing itself is not torturing me, nor giving me anxiety. Knowing he's safe and sound, that's really enough. Funny, I have never felt this way before, with any man.

He never promises me anything. He never said anything too romantic, too sweet. He never said that he loved me, nor he wanted to be with me. And I never said so too. Wishing him well, healthy, and happy, I think it's all more than enough. We enjoy our chat, our moment together, and even sometimes he would call me. Just hearing his voice, bring me back to my own spirit and hope, that everything would going to be nice and fine. That I am fine. I am so fine.

If I lay here..

He smiled at me when he saw me.
That day, was the second time we met; the first was about a month ago. I threw my gaze at somewhere else. I cant afford to see his smile. For then I would guess, what he's smiling for. And usually, that thought would end to something bad and scary.

I invited him to come to my room soon after. He sat on a chair at the corner, and I jumped in to my bed. I was getting ready to sleep when he called and said that he wanna come.

'You're getting cuter,' he said. Looking at me.
I smiled plainly. Does that matter? I thought to myself.
He asked permission to smoke. The first time he smoked, I told him I wanted him to quit. It's not healthy. He said he would try to reduce the frequency. I guess that's why he asked my permission. But I was too tired to say anything. I have chosen to observe only. He's a bit too late. I didnt want to care anymore. So I didnt say anything. He smoked.

He brushed his teeth after like 3-4 cigarettes. I didnt count. He threw himself to bed.
And hugged me from behind. I was silenced. I was like frozen.

He asked me what my answer to his question was. Not about the smoking, of course, but to something else.
I was still silenced.

There was no time when I didnt doubt him. Doubt myself. Doubt about any relationship.
I was pathetic. I knew he loved me. I knew he cared. But everytime I thought that, I also knew that he didnt love me enough. He didnt care me enough. Enough to let go all his world. All his history. All his future. Because there's always be some other things he still wanted to accomplish. To achieve. And for some of that, He would have to leave me behind. His love, his care, his feeling, was not enough to make him stay for me. Or to take me away to forever and to somewhere place where we could be together without worrying what people would say..

So, I didnt know if I loved him.
No. It's more like, I didnt know if I could love him back.

He kissed me. And the tobacco tasted bitter now.
He hugged me so tight. I knew he had his dilemma too.
And I didnt wanna be his burden.

So I didnt say anything.
I couldnt say anything.
I couldnt give him my answer.

That night, I whisper my wish. Heaven.. please grant me the stopping of the second hand of time....

Yet like a song with ending. A movie with ending. He had to go.
He said sorry. I shaked my head. There's no sorry for whatever we had.

I didnt send him away. I just lay down at my bed. Alone.
It was indeed a dark night.
I lay down.
Trying to forget the rest of the world.
.
.
.
*

if i lay here,
if i just lay here..
Would you lie with me
and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol...