[fiction] That Someday Guy

He's always like that. A bunch of cute youngster adulating him, his opinionated view towards the world around him, and his way delicious flirtation. He's not cute, he's handsome, in the way that reminds you to the popular song once sung by Britney, you know, a guy like you should wear a warning, it's dangerous.. Never mind. 

He's a very busy guy - yet between his working hour, which is almost endless, his gym time, and his dedicated-to-fans-time, he always make a little space for me. It's always a simple hi, or a simple emoticon, which then for me would lead to a mundane chit-chat, usually about guys, and he usually would not be interested. Or perhaps it's just me. Perhaps I am too lazy, or even too dumb, to talk about anything heavy, but then again, I am not the one to brag about anything. I am a hopeless romantic, so what do you expect when you talk to me? Exactly. Guys.  And guys.

People come and go. And to some extent, I have thought that perhaps he would too, and we'd be one of those awkward friends, who used to know each other but then get nowhere when engaged in a decent conversation. So I got insecure. I acted out. Cliche. But then we made up. Deep inside, somehow, I know he's always be there. Not know as in knowing, but know in the sense of hope. 

He's never really done anything for me, which is why what I am gonna tell you next will make it really absurd: he's my someday guy. Not in the desperate way, but more because I know I could never make it to his heart and settle down there forever, or at least not now. So perhaps, someday. So, someday guy. I told him once, and he's like 'what's a someday guy?' I told him that in time, he would probably know. Until then, lets skip the topic. And back to the matter around the world... hey you know recently there's a dispute regarding the budget issued by the house of representative.... 

The Parting

 

 

you built yourself from the rain.

I built myself from the clouds.

The Train is Leaving

I wished I had begged you to stay.

I wished I had ignored the pride and cared less about the grace. 

I wished I had known how to say sorry at the time, even for things I hadn't done. 

I wished I had learnt my lesson well.

But now look at us both.
Look at me, running and escaping from town to town, trying to ease I didn't even know what.
Drowning myself into beer and getting drunk just to take my mind off of you for a while, secretly hoping that I wouldn't have to wake up the next morning.
Throwing myself in the arms of strangers from the bar, trying desperately to mend the broken heart and to forget your scent. 


I wished I had begged you to stay. 
I had wished there had never been a too-late. 

Blue Sky Collapse

As I walk to the end of the line, I wonder if I should look back to all of the things that were said and done. I think we should talk it over. Then I notice the sign on your back; it boldly says "Try to Walk Away". I go on pretending I'll be okay. This morning, it hits me hard that still everyday I think about you. 

Nothing beats a fast-driven car. It goes so fast, so speedy, that up to one point, you don't feel yourself anymore. Just the blinding wind, and the time is like being fast-forwarded. It's like just running away from the past, escaping from the pain, and eventually, forgetting about the life itself. 

But reality hits. From time to time. So you'd have to push your brake. You'd have to stop, trying to digest the pain, the smile, the tears, the happiness, or everything else, again. For you can't be the winner when you're racing with time. You can't really pretend that you'd be okay forever. You'd have to look back, to make peace with yourself before you move on.... 


So I stopped. 

Appeased the adrenaline rush. 

Took a deep breathe. 

And reality hit me so hard that I finally surrendered myself to the fact that I have loved, I have fought, but I have lost. 

The pain started to fill in my chest, as I remembered again his smile. His eyes. His hugs. His odor. His kiss.. Our kiss. Our love. Our moment. Our intimacy. Our past..My past. 

I walked out of my car, hugging my arms. Isn't love a sweet misery? Despite the pain, and everything ugly, we're willing to take the risk to let ourselves fall. Fall so deep that even sometimes we lose ourselves. Or is it true that it IS the pain that makes the happiness taste sweeter? 


Did it matter anymore? 
Frankly, I didn't know. And I didn't want to know. When it's time to let go, are there any other option than to let go? Is there any use to keep an already broken mirror? Already broken dream? 


So I said goodbye. 

As I stare at the wall in this room, the cracks; they resemble your shadow. When everyday I see time goes by; in my head, everything stood still.. I'm waiting for things to unfreeze, till you release me from the ice block. It's been floating for ages washed up by the sea and it's drowning - thought you should know that..still everyday I think about you. I know for a fact that's not your problem, but if you change your mind you'll find me hanging on to the place, where the big blue sky collapse. 

As I drove home, I noticed that perhaps love is like the darken sky. It got the sky black like the night. It collapsed the blue blue sky. Still, it waited for you to redeem the bright morning with your ribs. And perhaps at that time, the two souls would again find each other and just be home. 

You see, people are trying to find their way back home, So I'll find my way to you. 

*Song from  Blue Sky Collapse, Adhitiya Sofyan, from the Album Quiet Down. 

Loves You Lately

Inspired by Daniel Powter's song: Loves You Lately.
Best read along with the song. You can download it here.

Two bags. Two minutes of separation. Two excessive words that he didn't say.

So there he was. Sitting in the corner, head down, and thinking about something else. Somewhere else. And perhaps, someone else?
Here I was. Looking at him, feeling the pain inside my chest, and trying so hard to hide my tears.

I still couldn't believe that all the time we've spent together, all the two years we've been living together, could only be summarized into two bags and two minutes of separation. He's not much a buyer, but at least, I expect he'd take more things from this house, which could act as a remembrance when he's away. But, as I gazed around, everything seems to still be around. Everything is still the same, but somehow, they are now more redundant than I could remember. They're all so excessive, because this house is still going to be empty without him around......

Suddenly he turned his head up, and our looks met.
I could recognize his smiling lips, but as I looked deeper into his eyes, I couldn't remember when the last time was that we laughed out so loud that we burst into tears. And I couldn't all the past that we've been going through. Was he happy, at all? Did we really get the great thing? Was it really just the two of us?

Two years of bitter-sweet days. Two shattered-dreams. Two broken-hearts.

He stood up, and said that it looked like the taxi was already outside the door. He lifted up his bags, and walked. It's like he's moving out of time, and my world just stopped.

And the next thing I knew, I hugged him. So tight.
Flashing through all the mistakes I've made, all the tenderness that survived through all our fights, and the butterflies we've had in our stomach.

Then I let him go, as I hoped that he'd find whatever he'd been looking for, along with the three words I didn't bear to say. Loving you lately...

Sakauku akan Engkau

di bukit hanya telau,
menyisakan sedikit suara parau
karena rindu yang kuteriakkan dari sini, tak kunjung bisa kau dengar..

di bukit hanya kemarau,
dan di sana telah lama kujemur kenangan lampau
karena ia terus-menerus basah oleh air mata yang merembes dari luka ini...

di bukit hanya galau

maka ijinkan aku kembali memeluk sakauku akan engkau

janji, aku juga ingin sembuh dari semua ini..

*as posted as comments in Pohon's blog

Coffee, Tea, and Good Bye

太浓了吧否则怎会苦的说不出话

Is it too thick? Otherwise, how could it be that bitter that even you're speechless?

每次都一个人在自问自答

Everytime, it's like very silent,that one's only thinking to himself

我们的爱到底还在吗

Our love, is it still there after all?

One crowded coffee shop. One lousy table. One hot afternoon.

Two chairs. Two cup of coffee. Two people, sitting across to each other. 

So close, yet there's no gap more distant than the current situation. 

So silent, that even you could hear your own heart-beat. 

And for so-and-so much times, we had exchanged gaze to just turn it to somewhere else.

For at each time we looked at each other, perhaps we still couldn't find the answer: our love, was it still there after all?

已经淡了吧多放些糖也很难有变化

Has it become too insipid, that even when you add more sugar, it'd still be indifferent?

不如喝    这杯就各自回家

Isn't it better that we finish this cup, then go home in our own?

别坐在对面欣赏我的挣扎

Don't just sit across me to enjoy my struggle

You know, for me, there's no such thing as a failed-coffee. No matter how thick you made it, how bitter it'd be, there'd be a second chance. You could add more hot water, more sugar, and so on. You could pour some milk. When it's cold, then you could just re-heat it. 

But it is not the same case in a romantic relationship. There's no manual. When the feeling is gone, it's gone. When it's not working, it's not working. 

So I guessed, that's what we realised from behind our own coffee cup. We saw the truth in each other's eyes, and to some extent, it's so painful that we needed to turn the gaze into somewhere else. I knew we're being escapist; but really, was there anything we could do?

He lifted his cup again. I looked at my watch. The break was almost over. 

Someone somehow had to make a decision.

一场失败的爱情像个笑话

One failed romantic relationship, it's like a joke

热得时候心乱如麻

that when it's hot, one could be terribly restless

冷了以后看见自己够傻

and when it's cold, he'd find himself being stupid enough

人怎么会如此容易无法自拔

Why people are just helpless to obsession?

I smiled upon noticing how he enjoyed his coffee. Then I recalled all the sweet-nothings, all the messages and phone calls we had made. It was so intense that at some point, I got addicted. A day without it all, was a day when I was being restless. And his words were just like the drugs, where upon taking it, one could just forget the reality and get trapped inside a fantasy land where there's no pain and sadness...

But now? As I drank my coffee to almost the last sip, I wondered if what I felt, and perhaps what he felt, was really love. After all, you couldn't fall for someone that fast. It wouldn't make sense. And perhaps, there's a part of me that believed, what comes fast would end that fast. 

So I gazed at him again. In the name of the past, and all the effort he had paid for me, I at least owed him that there's no use to label what we used to have.

一场无味的爱情像个谎话

One tasteless romantic relationship is like a lie

甜的时候只相信它

that when it's sweet, you could only believe him

苦了以后每一句都可怕

and after it's gone bitter, every words (he said) is just scary

人怎么会如此难以了无牵挂

Why is it this difficult to have no concern?

So we drank the very last drop of our coffee. We shaked hands, for the friendship in the moment and the future. We said goodbye. 

*Songs: Ka Fei (coffee) by Jacky Cheung.

Padamu

Satu-satu

rasa bergema pada waktu

padamu yang satu,

hatiku

membatu

*

Dua-dua

gerimis bersua di ruah

padamu jua,

hatiku 

menua

*

Sebab semua tak pernah sampai tiga

sebelum luka merah menganga

padamu yang sesaat seperti senja jingga,

hatiku

berjelaga

* gambar dari sini.

Coffee, Tea, and I Love you (part 2)

Espresso. Americano. Double-shot.

There are three things he at least loves about coffee. Aroma, flavor, and caffeine. Just like the life from behind his glasses: it’s about Love, Dream, and Pain. Aroma is like the Love; in which it is responsible for the flavor, and therefore, is the most important attribute to specialty coffee. Love, hence, is a one emotion that brings us to our existence. Love of a mother, a couple, and to each other. It’s the bond that binds us together.

Flavor is the Dream; it gives you the experience of mild, smooth, and even bold. Then along comes the mouthfeel… Bitter? Sweet? Acid? Plain? Dream keeps us alive. Keep us going on even when we feel like we’re giving up. It gives us hope, that there’s perhaps someone, something, that somehow waits for us by the end of our journey.

Caffeine is about the pain; it keeps us awake, and to some extent, it becomes the insomniac itself. It is addictive, and we can’t run away from it, even we know we want to, and we have to. Just like the pain. Love gives us life, dream keeps us alive, but pain.. it helps us realizing that we’re alive. It stings every now and then, it brings tears, it keeps us awake during our lonely night, and we feel the pain inside our chest… but it’s there to help us stronger. It helps us treasuring what we have. Pain is just tragically beautiful.

Latte. Macchiato. Misto.

He stared at a blank point in front of him. Someone somewhere he didn’t know when, had discovered the miracle of a mixture of milk and coffee. It sure adds the fun of drinking coffee.

Mix 1/3 coffee with 2/3 milk, and voila, you have Latte. Mix it 50-50, then you have Misto. When you only use the milk as a stain? You’ll have what they label as Macchiato. But… where’s the coffee?

When milk is bargaining the dark and black coffee to a brownish beverage, is the coffee gone? Is the milk gone? Or they’re just trying to compromise, to make a room for each other in a claustrophobic cup? Or, they’re just getting married, and living their own happily ever after, without even asking who’s who?

Is it just like us? That when you’re deep in love with someone, something, does it mean that you’re slowly, but surely, losing yourself?

We wake up in the morning, and the first person we’re thinking about is him. The first person we’d want to find is him. We wonder if he has a good night sleep, a sweet dream, and if he sees us in his dream. We can’t sleep without him beside us in the night. And the next thing we know is, we plan our life,your future, and he is one of the variables we’d like to consider. Before we even realize, we’d find ourselves not being able to live a day without him. For to love someone so madly, so deeply, and so truly, it means that we’d have to put aside your feeling, doesn’t it? And we’d try to understand him more and more everyday. This is when Math can’t explain why Two could become One.

Flat white. Frappuccino. Cappuccino.

Is it true? Or is it just this silly lover-bird concept?

Wait. Is it stupid to fall for someone so deeply, so madly, so truly to the extent that you’re just losing yourself? Or is it just not possible to lose yourself, for we all are these selfish jerks who wrap ourselves in a nice outfit, so that the wolf inside us would look like a sweet sheep outside? That somehow, we’re still ourselves, and we’re just trying to make room for him in our heart, from a guest to a permanent resident to a citizen… while at the same, we’re also preparing our heart for him leaving when it gets so claustrophobic?

Love….really, how can you measure it if it’s supposed to be un-measured-able?

He sighed and sighed. It’s been an hour or so, he guessed.
As much as he wanted a YES for the question, he knew that deep inside, people never really lose themselves in the name of love.

Kopi luwak. Kopi tubruk. Kopi Sumatera.

Because if we’re to lose ourselves, then why we put so many labels around us?

Put coffee beans to a hot water. The water turns black, and we don’t call it water. Put milk in the coffee, then we’d have latte, macchiato, or misto. Somehow, we fail to see the true identity within: the water. Coffee is just water. Milk is just water. And they’re just label.

The labels further then create barrier to anything around us. We can’t mix tea with coffee, because the two don’t mix. We can’t mix Kopi Luwak with instant coffee. We can’t even brew coffee with cold water. Whereas we know, they’re all just water.

It’s like us. Even when we know it’s only LOVE we’re talking about, it is known that a love between two males is wrong – or to put in a lighter word, not normal. Beyond the gender, beyond the tradition, it’s simply love. Why is it that the kind of love is forbidden?

Coffee. Tea. Milk.

He’s tired.
And he found himself staring back at him from the glass-wall beside him: a dark and black coffee on the surface. Inside? A bitter person who probably had forgotten how to be happy. A caffeinated insomniac who chose not to sleep in the night, for the loneliness was actually that creepy from him. A damaged person who so desperately wanted to run away, to escape, and to deny from and about himself. A silly lover who foolishly fell for tea, despite he knew that there’s no any chance that they could be together.

So he grabbed the menu list once again.
He looked at the coffee list, and the tea list.
This time, he ordered a cup of hot water.

Coffee, Tea, and I Love You

a promise to him

He wished he were a glass of milk.

Do you remember when you're this little baby who couldn't eat anything other than milk? And when you're older, you had a glass of warm and sweet milk, then you'd brush your teeth before safely reached for your bed. It's the safe feeling that you're gonna be fine during the dark night and sound sleep, because you knew that Mom had already made the milk evil-proof; and you're immune to anything bad. Because you knew that there's this little pray that Mom had silently poured along with the liquid, that you knew somehow, despite the nightmare, you'd be fine. Mom was gonna be there.

This was not about it.

Because now, he had grown out to a fine man. It's his turn to take care of his Mom... 

Do you remember the first time you knew strawberry? Chocolate? And perhaps honey? All the sweets, they're tasty but bad for your teeth. But then the chemical people blend those sweets you adore into chocolate milk, strawberry milk, and so on. You're happy that for the first time in your life, milk was not that plain anymore. Milk was not always white anymore. And it gave a sense of luxury. The sense of a sophisticated personality; for now milk is chemically processed.

But this was also not about it.

Because all he ever wanted to be was only a decent guy, a simple and down-to-earth guy. He didn't wanna be special, because it's merely not who he was.

He knew it best that milk was healty. Milk had anything a person could want. Carbohydrate to protein to fat. To vitamin and minerals. Even those who couldn't digest lactose in a milk, could actually use a fermented milk they called as yoghurt. Yes, it was sour. But go to Sour Sally and take a look on happy and satisfied people. They love their yoghurt. Too much fat? Try the low-fat milk. Need more calcium? Easy, just find a certain brand. Want to gain weight? Turn to milk.

Yet again, that was not what he wanted.

Because he learnt that by time, you couldn't be everything for a person. It's tiring and useless.

He really wished that he were a glass of milk.

Not in the sense that he's not grateful for what he's now.

He knew that so many people favored him over some other things. He knew that in a humble way, he's perfect. That he should be counting his blessings.

But, the bottomline here is, he fell for a cup of coffee.

So bitter that it almost sucked out all the happiness known to people.

So black that it was color-blind.

So caffeinated that it was representing the insomniac nights you had when you're working up late, and there's no one to come home to.

So he wanted to be a glass of white milk.

So sweet that perhaps he could trade the sadness into a smile; even a light smile would be enough.

So white that he could bargain the darkness into grey, or brown.

So relaxing, caffein-free, that perhaps he could bring some peace to the night.

So that he could be together with a cup of coffee.... There. Simple. Easy.

But he's just a glass of tea.

fiction: I know

"I love you."

That's the first sentence he said that morning. It was when we both just woke up, with this oily face, tousled hair, and acid mouth. There's nothing good we both could display. More, it's still early, and hence, the drowsiness was still hanging in our eyes, the dreams was still dwelling in our head, and the consciousness was still to be found.

But that's the first thing he whispered to my ears, to my face, and to my head. Instead of a simple hi, or even a polite good morning. So I smiled back, then kissed him, but said nothing back. Not in the sense that I was silenced, shocked, amazed, or something like that, that prevented me to say anything back. More to the fact that I had nothing to say.

I got up, then reached for the blanket to cover his nude body and walked to the bathroom. I wore my clothes sleeping, mind you. Nothing was better than hot water in the morning; it was so relieving and fresh that I felt alive, again.

It wasn't until a few minutes that I heard him walked in. He hugged me from behind, kissed my back, and let the sprinkling water from shower get him wet. Get me wet. Get us, wet.

I smiled, again. I could feel his breath, his passion, and his morning erection.
"Is there anything you'd like to say?" He whispered.
"Such as?"
"I don't know. Perhaps about this morning?"
This time, I laughed. I turned around, and looked into his eyes. He was that tall, so I needed to gaze upward. I kissed him, again.

Then, after a short pause, I asked him, slowly, and quietly.. "Why?"
He was starled. "Why what?"
Hm.. that cute face he was making, I could just eat it up.. It was something like..did I do something wrong - and If I did, please forgive me?
"Why do you love me?"
This time, he was silenced. A very long pause. Then he walked out.

I finished my shower not long after.
With just a towel wrapping, I walked out to find him sitting in the edge of our bed. He's still wet, so I took off my towel to dry him.
"What's the matter?"
A long pause, again. Then he grabbed my hand, and made me sit on his lap.
"Weird.."
I hugged his neck.
"I..." he swallowed all of his doubt, "I don't know why I love you."
"And now you thought that it was something that I did to you? A spell or something dark and evil?"
For a moment, we only shared our stare. Then we both burst out laughing.
I hugged him so tight.

"I love you too."
.
.
.
.
"I know."