I came back to say

I would love to hear you play the piano again. I mean, really, Jade, you were fantastic on it. For once i could forget who is the player, and just focused on what's being played. Music to me is melody, is feeling, is the heart. 'S not technique, it is not theory, it is not mastery, much like what you believe in. You've been fussing too about this crap called mastery. You think i'm not good enough, and i will amount to nothing, like i dont master anything, heck i aint got no masters on anything. That is what you expect your man to have, an MBA.

But do you ever think about me the way i think about you? You don't do you, Jade. Cause you said you see nothing in me, and i'm a fool to bare it and say still that i love you. So, no, Jade. This ain't no worship, admiring you is ruining me. Not anymore. I am not going to be in love with you, if you can't even say to me straight up that you honor me the way i respect you.

So i came back to say this. Knowing you made me know me. Thanks for that.

Silence

i told him i made him dinner, but he walked passed me, grab the wine glass and filled it with water. i waited, yet he drank two more glass and went away. He didn't say a word, didn't even bother to look at me. so i went to the bedroom, took off my necklace and my bracelet, and sat on the bed while the sound of running water filled the silence between us.

i thought to myself, the world isn't a perfect sphere. but who said that it needs to be a perfect sphere to be perfect.

I walked into the bathroom, Liam was taking a shower. I saw my reflection on the foggy mirror, and opened my hair bun. He turned off the water and sigh. again i waited.

If the world was black and white, this scene will be a beautiful shot. I can see Lydia's silhouette from behind the curtain. That same sculptural stance lured me into adoring her. Sensibility was the trick of her trade, logic her gravitas, composure her charm. God, like i need anymore silence!

Rust had crippled the strongest stronghold. The only audible thing was the beat of our hearts that was playing different tempos. I know mine was failing, with every second i pass waiting, my heart would eventually gave up. It is giving up.. it has been battered.

I don't need ears to tell that she was hurting, she was crying, and she was trying to conceal all that. but of course she doesn't have the heart to tell it to me. she doesn't.

i couldn't hear my logic. once it was the clearest part to me. now it's all muddied by these black tar of emotion. gone was the days of pros and cons, of statistical probability and of gain and loss theories. even death wouldn't be as heavy as this.

Yet that cold, beautiful, perfection was the only woman i was pulled into. Like i was the waves, moved hopelessly towards the moon's gravity but no matter how hard i was pulled, i was never close enough. never reaching. never one..

i opened the shower curtain. three seconds our eyes met. he was dry, and he was clothed. but his cheeks were wet.

"if you could just hear me," i whispered.
"if you
could just hear me,
if you could
just hear me,
if you could just
hear me,
if you could just hear
me,
if you could just
hear..
hear.."

and he wiped my tears. he is deaf, but he understood.

A Word from Non-Fiction World: for reals

Hey, This is me. The writer. I am currently enrolled in this class that requires me to write everyday. So, i will be writing my stuff here, on this blog (i'll keep them fictional, yes) when i am not tired of looking at the computer.. or else i'll be scanning pages from my notebook (i'll try). Wouldn't that be great? You get to see my handwriting!

Anyway, I am thinking of either short stories or poems, or longer to-be-continued stories. we'll see, i'm keeping this thing open, but with special constraints.

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..