i miss you,

i miss you regardless of never seeing you

is it not enough to say that the imaginary meetings we've had

was the best part of my sleep

i thought that your handwriting was enough to keep me infatuated

but thoughts only carry you so far, a touch, however

will sear my skin so hot i'd never forget

i miss you. let's meet soon.

good bye

sometimes what was there in the past

what was provoking and mysterious

that steamed up conversation

made up of our names

just our names

the gripping rhythm

the beating you gave with every

illusory punch in my heart

on my chest

just my name

sometimes satisfaction asks

for another try

again and

again

alone

lima puluh persen mereka cerai

mungkin suatu saat nanti

kita berdua bisa saling berani

untuk melihat fakta

bahwa perasaan yang kita pendam

tak pernah sama

namun tuk sementara

mari nikmati rasa

yang membodohi pikiran

bilang saja ini cinta

sampai akhir musim panas

saat demam mereda

Have We Met?

I had not returned to the city ever since I left it. Not in a very long time. Not until today, four years after. Nobody picked me up from the airport, it was supposed to be a pleasant surprise. After 10 phone calls each year, and at least fifteen letters sent home, i bet these people miss me.

Jakarta decided to mellow the day out for me. It rained, the little drizzle of rain that brings me back to the day I left for Africa. I walked out of the baggage claim area, into the sea of people, waiting for someone I know to pop up. But nobody was waiting for me. I took a cab and asked to go to a restaurant. A late dinner is better than nothing.

In the midst of the sound of spoon and forks against plates, I heard a laugh I know so well. In the corner of the room, he is there with his parents, talking. They just finished their meal and he waved to the waitress for the check. The waitress smiled and went to the cashier, taking a second glance back at the man I once knew. We never talked since I touched down in Africa. I sent him a letter, but he never replied. So I stopped after the third postcard. He looks good tonight, tux and all.

I returned home after a quick dinner. No, he did not notice me when he walked past. His mom took a glance at me, though, but soon looked away like I was a mirage. My mom and dad was asleep when I rang the bell. But I could hear them gasped when they saw my shadow over the fence. We talked all night, but all I could think of was Will and how I missed him.

A couple of days later the word got around that the africa-girl is back. Friends, and family gatherer in the house and they sat around me asking for stories. Everyone was there, Will was there too. He sat in the back of the room, sipping tea, eyeing me so tightly. It was weird at first, we have not even talked yet, just him looking at me constantly. So after three or five stories, I stood up and walked towards him. He stood up, slowly, and walked towards the verandah, I followed.

We stood in silence, all I could see was the garden and how things looked unbelievable similar to my memory. My mom still got her magical green fingers, my dad still raved about his own roasted coffee beans. I drank what was left from the dark african beer I brought as a souvenir and sat down on the floor. "What made you came back?" he asked. A question I have no answer for.

"Honestly, I went back on a whim. There's still much work to be done in the area, and seriously it's a long term thing. But I figured, there will always be something to work on. Be it getting new teachers for the elementary school, or building a new hospital, or irrigation system, or... us."

"Was there something wrong with us?" Will walked in front of me, and looked me in the eye. A confrontative trait I had not known he possesed. Possibly built in the three years that I was not around.

"Unfinished, yes. not wrong," I looked back at him. He could never beat me in a staring game. "How have you been?" I changed the subject.

"Getting there. I got two promotions since you left. You can say I'm the boss now," he smiled and I chuckled.

"Sexy secretary?"

"Sexy ones aren't all that dependable. I've got a lady twenty years older than us, she's a proud work horse, and she gets me whole-heartedly."

"Sounds like wife material to me," I replied.

"Do you know how I looked forward to a day like this three years ago?" he switched the topic back to what I fear it would be. Can't we just have a chat?  Geez.

"Do you know that going to Africa was my last resort?"

"You mean like, taking a break from everything and start fresh? You were so excited to do it though," Will stood up and looked away.

"It was an exciting prospect. I couldn't see myself doing anything else."

"To the point that you can't go back to Jakarta a year after you left like you promised me. Sure.."he shrugged sarcastically.

"I have my reasons," I got pretty annoyed by now.

"Yeah, then explain why you act like a total stranger in the restaurant?"

"The wha-" I stood up and stormed towards him. "Look, Will, if we're gonna argue about the times we missed and the things we wish we had said or done, it's too late for that now, ok? If you want to say something, just say it, cause beating around the bush gets us nowhere," seething in my boiling point.

He walked away, and said we should talk again when both of us are in better condition, which is another month from that last meeting, tonight. He came over to the house and picked me up for a dinner out. It was awkward in the car, but we've got the radio to aid the situation..

I Missed You

It has been 2 years, 9 months, and 14 days since i last saw your face. In the land where the sun will always come on cue, 6 am and 6 pm never fails.

Presumably the damp air of my rain city had took over, and toned me down, you say. "Your hair isn't doing that lion mane look," you spoke to the camera, half way across the world. I shushed you and confessed that you did not look like a 16 year old anymore. Confidently you touched your short beard and wag them furiously at me. You sniggered and i yawned. "It's twelve already, you should go to bed, Princess."

You always called me Princess for no apparent reason. Sometimes it's that, some other times, you called me Pine Tree. The reason behind the second is similar to the former. I was never the tallest kid in class, so i couldn't blame others' growth sprout in high school to blame for my height, and i did not smell like pine trees or the fresh mountain air, so the name wouldn't suit me anyway. I asked you once before, why you gave me that nick name. But you just smiled like the secret wouldn't be fun when shared to the subject of the secret. "well, duh" you would reply, rolling your eyes with the look i think would be the most disdainful - coming from an already weird-out face.

"You're not going to your next class, mister?" i asked. You were sitting down on the floor of your campus, looking like a beggar. "We still got 15 minutes," you said as if i was going to attend the same class. "Hey, where's all the cute girls in campus? I haven't seen any of them."

I remember growing up, you were always pretending to be the big guy, the man. One day, in a school tour, we played house and you made the cutest chipmunk voice that i would never forget. It was flattering to me that you did that to keep the playtime going.

"Dude, out of all the questions you could ask me.." you turned your laptop towards a hall, all i could see was silhouettes passing. Then a girl came closer towards where you were sitting, sat beside you, and you rolled back the laptop so i could see the two. "Hi, kak," the girl bowed her head a little bit, she made it sounds like she knew who i was. Dang, i'm in my pjs and my hair is all over the place. Is this how i'm going to meet your girlfriend? She's looking all cute and well dressed, and i'm drowsy and snotty from the cold. I put on a quick grin and tuned into the nicest future sister-in-law she could ever met.

Utopia

destroy the old

the new will sprout

burn what was there

the young will take over

if death is what needs to be faced

then face it smiling

cause the kid who's gonna fill your space,

is there with a new dream of

utopia

For Jamie: If I Was Brave Enough

In the library, listening to my head spelling out the things i want to say to you. Things that i could never put in my mouth. Things that maybe you may never hear, unless i decided to hell with the strained peace between us, and just scream it in your face.

I would scream because words cannot contain the amount of pain it cost me to pull this out of my heart. I would scream because you will not understand the amount of energy it took me to carry the message for the whole three years now. I would scream because the man inside of me had decided to show its true color.

That he is afraid. That he is ashamed. But to appear just a little braver than the coward he really is, he chose to yell it off. For fear of the quiver in his voice, the tears that would come out, the vulnerability that would show and the look that you would have in your eyes.

Then all the same, i would cry, i would cry today in your arms. Because for three years i've been the strong man for you. Leaving my wounds in the corner to rot, hugging you tight as i whisper our prayer to sleep. For this one day, the third year of our son's death, i would show you that a chunk of my heart was ripped out too, and that there was no man so strong he could be your anchor.


-- Read this for happy ending, or leave a comment now --


In the end, she hugged me and said in the calmest tone i have every hear you speak, "Our strength does not come from horses or chariots, but from God alone. You are not my anchor, but you are certainly the main sail of my ship. I love you. So much."