Ratie sialan.
Jadinya kan saya harus merasa harus menulis tentang tag aneh itu.
Huh.

Okay, so this is the 6 weird things about me.

1. Saya suka melihat langit dan langit-langit

Langit paling biru itu jam 7-9 pagi, kalau sore warnanya menjadi jingga keemasan. Saya paling suka kalau langit biru dan awan-awan cumullus dan nimbusnya terpisah-pisah menjadi kecil, bisa untuk dipakai main tebak-tebakan bentuk. Hmm, nice.
Dan kenapa juga langit-langit ya? Entah, mungkin kebiasaannya terbawa juga kalau indoor. Atau memang karena profesi arsitek juga mungkin..

2. Menghitung antena parabola

Waktu saya kecil, saya menyibukkan waktu di perjalanan dengan menghitung antena parabola yang nyembul di atas rumah. Menantang sekali. Apalagi kalau sudah masuk daerah pusat kota dengan bangunan2 dan ruko2 tinggi yang saling menutupi mata saya yang mencari-cari antena parabola lagi.
Kebiasaan ini otomatis berhenti saat layanan cable datang dan antena parabola sudah ditinggalkan. Dasar cable terkutuk.

3. Malam-malam di atap rumah

Kalau malam melankoli mulai datang lagi, saya biasanya tiduran di atap rumah sambil merokok, mencari distraction dengan menenangkan diri melihat langit malam atau menghitung bintang (saya pernah sampai ke hitungan ke-2362) atau mengobrol dengan teman. Teman? Ya, teman. Yang menjadi keanehan saya yang keempat:

4. Saya punya Teman Imajiner! (hoho)

Namanya Gidds. Dia rusa kutub berbulu tebal berwarna coklat. Ada bekas luka di mata kiri, jadi dia buta sebelah sepertinya. Tanduk kirinya lebih pendek dari yang kanan, entah kenapa patah.
Kalau berdiri dengan keempat kakinya, dia adalah rusa yang sangat anggun. Tapi kalau dia sudah berdiri dengan dua kaki, badannya jadi tiba2 membesar dan tampak menyeramkan, beneran deh, saya sendiri kadang juga takut sama dia.
Sekarang sih dia sudah jarang kelihatan. Tapi kalau saya merasa kesepian dan butuh teman mengobrol, I’ll just clap my hands and he’ll come..

5. (sedikit) Obsesif Kompusif

Tidak parah kok, hanya suka melihat keteraturan, walaupun kamar saya berantakan (yang ini bisa dimaafkan, haha). Kalau melihat salah satu barang keluar dari jalur kerapiannya, langsung saya rapikan lagi.
Saya suka melihat tempat ratusan trolley berbaris rapi di Carefour Sukajadi Bandung (it’s like heaven to me!) dan juga swalayan yang barang-barangnya tertata neatly berdasarkan ukuran dan warna yang seragam. Dan kadang merasa risih kalau melihat ada yang tidak cocok dengan pakaian yang seseorang kenakan, tapi merasa tidak sopan kalau mengeluarkan komentar yang aneh-aneh jadi saya memilih untuk diam saja dan mati penasaran.

6. I hate kids (don’t I?)

Specifically, anak2 berumur antara 4-6 tahun. Lebih dari 6 tahun juga sepertinya. Karena mereka suka berlari-lari atau berteriak-teriak, dan berlari-lari sambil berteriak-teriak, dan itu membuat saya pusing.
Setahun belakangan ini, saya mencoba melakukan terapi (atau malah itu sisi obsesif-kompulsif saya yang keluar lagi ya?) dengan membayangkan how cute they can be with that little angelic faces. But I feel guilty somehow, karena telah merasa menjilat ludah sendiri. Ternyata tetap tidak bisa, jadi saya mencoba untuk tetap tidak peduli dengan anak kecil.

And there goes my weirdness. Masih banyak lagi sebenarnya, seperti rambut yang selalu berantakan karena tidak pernah disisir, dan suka berjalan-jalan sendiri di Braga kalau malam (karena trotoarnya lebar dan bangunannya klasik!), pikiran autis yang melankoli dan penuh tragedi, pikiran logic yang selalu ingin tahu alasan dari sesuatu (contoh yang tidak penting: kenapa kepiting jalannya menyamping?), dan lainnya.

Yah, begitulah.
Dasar Ratie sialan...

...oh my God, I can't write stories anymore!




*after 30 minutes trying-to-think-about-something-to-write but just staring-at-the-blank-monitor-screen

He sat there at the playground. No, it supposed to be a playground, with the swingers and the merry-go-round. They told him so. But it was never built that way. Now it was just a parking area with all the colorful pavements. They removed the grasses and the shrubs, leaving just an oak tree behind. Instead of swingers and a merry-go-round, they just built the rounded bench around the tree for people to sit.

And there he sat, waiting for her.

The wind that night was never that cold, the shimmering lights that night was never that odd. Somehow it gave him the dim shade colors of blue and purple. Despite of all the people surrounding him or just passing by, he felt lonely and deserted, and thought that he just the only person there. Even the negative hollows, the spirits that take the enthusiastic and optimism from people when they flies through people’s body, couldn’t make him more pessimistic: he was negative already.

That night, he wanted to end it. The love he found but could never be hold, he wanted to it. He couldn’t stand the feeling of being neglected and being fooled around. Did she neglect him? Did she fool him around? She left him with doubted and wandered thoughts, and he tired with that kind of uncertainty.

He prepared a romantic goodbye; he brought a white rose because he couldn’t find a pink carnation that she loves very much. He intended to propose her, and he knew somehow the answer was going to be a big ‘NO’. He believed the ‘NO’ answer will end the uncertainty, and it would be a sign for him to leave her and move on. Maybe he would find another girl or maybe he would cry and regret the things he had done. But it was the only way, at least he thought it was.

He closed his eyes. All the vague memories he had with her just came, and gushing out like water stream in a river. Her touch, her scent, her kiss, everything he had with her. In his mind he saw a goodbye, and it made him wanted to cry. He opened his eyes to stop him thinking. He tried to drive the thoughts away, so he counted the stars like the way he used to do.

And there he sat, waiting for her.

* * *

She had enough. They argued again the night before, and he messed up again. She tired herself with the drama she had with him and the guy she had been with at the moment.

But she knew she never wanted to end it, she knew she never wanted to have enough with him. They were a perfect match. They talked together, they laughed together, they dreamt about the time when they would live together in a cheap apartment he would buy in Paris. The awful thing was, she knew she loved him much much more than anything. If he appeared just for a second, she found it enough just to make her rest of the day brighter.

But she had enough. She wanted to end up with him.

No, if I love him, why I should stop this love-train we ride? Oh, God, why can’t I be with him, or should I just be with him, the unconvinced question once again came to her mind.

She prayed to God, should I stop this? I wanted to be with him, just please give me one sign so I’m sure that he’s the one, he’s the one I’m looking for.

It was the only best she could do, hoping that God would be kind and showed her a sign, an indication so she could be with him. Maybe forever. So she waited and waited for a long time, but God wasn’t that good-hearted enough; she didn’t see a thing that could prevent her from saying goodbye. Still, she wasn’t willing to let him go, but she didn’t have any choices. She gathered all the courage she had and stood up. She had to go, she would meet him there, at the supposed-to-be playground place. He told her so. She walked. Her steps were heavy carrying the sadness of letting him go.

Before she came there and meet him, she cried.

She cried that night.

* * *

Finally she came up. He felt the love they have, but he forced the feeling to disappear.

She sat beside him and said nothing. He noticed how cold she was, and he began to think about the option of she hate her enough now and wanted to stop the love they both had, especially after the arguing last night.

‘I’m sorry for last night, I messed up, once again I’m letting you down,’ he said it with his very apologies. He turned around and tried to look her in the eye, but she didn’t. She just stared at a spot in front of her and trying to be tough. Every goodbye wasn’t meant to be easy, she knew that and she was prepared for another one now.

‘It’s okay. I’m okay now,’ another cold answer slipped from her mouth. And his heart broke. Yes, it was the goodbye he wanted, but it seemed that he didn’t have to run his scenario to leave: she was ready to leave him.

Despair met his eyes. He took a peek on the white rose he brought to stir its glance away. His right hand got the flower, and he gave it to her. There was no conversation, and he knew he didn’t have to say a thing. When can people say goodbye to the one they love, because their hearts shattered, left the minds with questions and the answers they didn’t want to hear, and made them couldn’t think clear enough just to find a words to say.

* * *

She didn’t know what to say. Her heart filled her with thoughts of leaving, made her couldn’t look him in the eye because she knew she could have drowned once again in the love he had in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry for last night, I messed up, once again I’m letting you down,’ she heard that soft voice once again through her ears, the voice that used to wake her up in the morning.
‘It’s okay. I’m okay now,’ should I leave him? She looked down at the pavement, Oh, God, just give me one sign so I could be with him.

And there is the moment when he gave her the rose with his right hand, one of the hands that used to hold her close enough she could felt his heart beating for her. She picked the white rose, and it made her trembled. Could this be the sign she had been waiting for? Yes, it was the sign that she wanted, just a single excuse so she could be with him.

All the doubtful thoughts disappeared. At the exact moment, she only was sure of one thing: she loved him.

She looked him in the eye and saw that lovely eyes again, the eyes that made all the toughness she gathered for the goodbye suddenly gone. She loved him so much and now she had found the reason for him to stay. She just didn’t realize that he loved her more than she ever knew.

Her eyes couldn’t hold the gleaming tears they had inside. A tear dropped on her face, running through the surface of her cheeks, and fell on the white rose.

* * *

{ just take the love ecstasy
because the moment you sober
is the moment you think }

- End -

PS: I'm okay, really.

We are a perfect lover. We don’t always be together. But the important thing is we know we love each other.

I marry you in a small chapel at the outskirts of the town. It has a small garden, and it’s perfect for our small garden party. We invite our friends, only the closest one, and our family. They smile happily, they can see the happily-ever-after in our eyes.

On the happiest day of our life, we’re dancing at the front. You look beautiful in your white wedding gown. You say that I’m gorgeous in that white tux. I hold your body close to mine, and we slowly dance, enjoying the elapsing moments, the seconds that move slowly when we are together. And suddenly you cry on my shoulder. I don’t say a thing, it’s an I-glad-I-found-you tears, and I don’t really need to say a thing. You can feel my heart beating the same thoughts, but I couldn’t cry in front of you or this people. I act to be tough, but still I shiver.

Then we go to travel agent, looking for some place to have a honeymoon on…


Where do you wanna spend our honeymoon? I ask you.
I don’t need a honeymoon, I just need to be with you, you reply.
I smile.


So, we don’t take the honeymoon trip, since we don’t really need one: everyday is a honeymoon day for us. Both of us take a week off from the work so we really could be together. We’ll open the wedding present, and surprised by it. There are black lingerie (why don’t you put it on?), a coffee maker (we already have one),

It’s just the time when we’re making love all day or just laying naked on the bed without thinking about what time is now and we have to go to work and else so we don’t really have to get up. We just lay there nakedly and hold each other’s body. But then it’s noon already and we’re hungry, so we decided to wake up and cook chicken cordon blue together.

You are happy. I am as pleased as you are. We are the happiest newly-wed couple for the entire history in the universe.

Few weeks later, you come to me with the brightest smile in your eyes and excitedly run to me and say,
We’re gonna have a girl!
And we spend the rest of the day clinging to each other, talking about the name of the baby, while I softly embrace your belly.


* * *

We have two kids, Nina and Ksatria. Nina was born two years earlier before Ksatria. She is an active and cheerful, and has a very attractive smile that makes everyone happy until the end of the day…


…she has wonderful smile like yours, I said it to you.
You smiled.
I watched your smile, Yeah, she really smiles just like you….


…while Ksatria is a calm, a little bit shy I think, but genius in the way he thinks. He loves reading and gets good grades academically.


…and he will have your beautiful eyes that I love, you interrupted.
I looked at you, and smiled.


We want them to follow our line of profession. You want Nina to be a lawyer just like you, while I hope Ksatria want to be an architect like I was. It’s okay though if they don’t want to, we won’t push them anyway. But we don’t really need to push them, they are the one who want to be like us. Nina admires the way you defend the innocent one, and Ksatria loves to sketch any view he sees. One day, he will sketches us sitting on the bench beneath the Eifell tower and gives it as a present for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

Every afternoon, we gather on the usual bench beneath the Eiffel. Both of us are from our office, while Nina from her ballet class, and Ksatria from his piano class. We eat the sandwiches I bought at the bakery not faraway from there, then walking home together. Sometimes we sing and laugh, don’t care whether the other pedestrian are looking at us or not. What a perfect family we have.

At night, all of us sit on the sofa with our white bathrobe, watching the drama on the soap opera, laughing at the jokes, tell the special incident we had today like the fat girl who fell in love with Ksatria, or the handsome brother Nina’s ballet-class friend has. Then we put our masker together, which surprised the pizza-delivery guy when Ksatria opened the door.

Sometimes we ask Nina’s boyfriend or Ksatria’s girl to come and have a dinner with us. But since they don’t have any, we just eat together as a family. Sometimes before we sleep, Nina and Ksatria put on a show for us. They turn off the lights, leaving one-two bulbs spot lights on the wall. Ksatria plays the old piano, it’s one of the romantic songs he made before. I bought the old piano on the second-handed store. It was rusty and had this dust and spider web all over it, but it still good though. I can’t afford something more expensive but I want Ksatria to have his own piano on his seventh birthday. But it turns out that he really loves it, no matter how cheap the cost is or how dreadful it looks. The only thing that matter is how his father loves him and the way he plays the piano.

After thirty seconds of minor 7th melodies he made himself, the music takes a pause for a moment, and continues as Nina comes in and does the ballet. She fall in love with ballet when we took her watching your old friend performance in the theater building near our apartment, and she shouted excitedly when she looked a pair of pink ballet shoes in her birthday-box present from you. And now just look how elegantly she moves, while she only twelve years girl.

We never thought the presents would turn them to be like this. We hold hands and cry…


I stopped. You cried. I watched closely, yes, it is the dripping tears from your eyes. I panicked for a while, held you near and wiped the tears away,
…why do you cry, dear? You don’t like the story?
You don’t answer, you just cried on my shoulder.
Come, come, there’s no such thing for you to cry about.
You sobbed, no, it’s the future that I want to have with you…
And there was a slight moment of pause in my breath, a moment of emptiness of air in my lung, the moment that made me realized how you really really love me.
Finally I got a grip of myself, said nothing but continued the story…


Yes, their performance is fantastic. We cry our happy tears, and they love to see us happy like that. But it’s night already so we take them on their rooms, and kiss them goodnights. We get into our room too, maybe we’ll make love before we sleep, or reading the books first then sleep. We don’t forget to kiss each other and saying ‘I love you’s.

That night and the same other nights, we sleep with that happy smile in our faces,
what a perfect family we have.


* * *

We are a perfect match. You love me very much. I love you even more.

We live in a cheap apartment in the suburbs not faraway from Paris downtown. Its color is between brown and beige, but it has more yellow. I chose the place when we arrived there because I like the color. You even like it more because it has this golden shine when the setting sun hits the wall directly.

We do the same ritual in the morning. You wake up first and kiss me, then make two coffees for both of us. The smell of the coffees wakes me up. I get up and give you a good-morning kiss then put the strawberry jam on the breads. Sometimes it’s the peanut butter or just a slice of cheese in between the breads. We eat it and drink the coffee together while watching the morning news. We laugh on the silly gossip. You go to bath. We take turn, sometimes we bath together.

We already dress neatly with the office suits. I put beige cardigan outside my white shirts and have my black scarf on my neck. You have the black blazer suit and the beige scarf around your neck. Yes, we are a perfect match.

We take the elevator to the ground floor. We look at each other at the front door. I look at you on my right. You look at me on your left. We smile, we kiss. We luck each other then be apart. I go to the left. You go to the right. Our offices are on the different directions. Mine is a local newspaper office located near to the south while yours is an international law-firm on the north near the Eiffel. They’re not far away though.

I take my bicycle at the parking area on the garden beside the apartment. It’s old, classic, slim, and tall black bike that I love very much. I don’t drop you at the office; you ride on trams. We don’t have a lunch together. But it’s okay anyway, since we usually still busy with the works on the lunch hour.

I finish my work at four, and ride on my bike to your office. It almost takes twenty minutes to go there. You finish your work at five which means that I still have an hour to get to you. It doesn’t that tiresome riding that bicycle in Paris. The views are great, I can sight-seeing while riding, and it never bores me.

You wait for me at the usual bench in the park beneath the Eiffel. I park the bike and have hops on the pavements, trying not to step on the mat. You see me come, and smile happily.
Do I make you wait long, honey? I asked.
You answered, I don’t mind waiting forever for you.

The reply blushes me. We have a peck and a conversation or two while sitting on the bench beneath the Eiffel. I open the paper bag and take the sandwiches I bought for us. You love it. I love seeing your smiling eyes while eating it. And the pedestrians passing over have their eyes at us, some of them almost crying as if they see a romantic scene happens on the bench with the Eiffel on the background. Some envy on how we spend the time together with a smile on each other face.

When it’s almost dark, we go home walking. I walk alongside the bike, on the left, while you walk on its right. We grasp our pinkie together, my right and your left. You swing the grasp so it has the perfect rhythm with our walking.

We arrive on the apartment. I park the bike, you wait at the door. Then we steps on the entrance stairs and walked into the elevator. We’re home already.

What will we do in the night? You asked me.
Hmm… I don’t know, but let’s continue the story…

It’s seven already. I throw myself onto the sofa. You throw yourself onto me. I put the TV on with the remote. We watch our favorite soap opera. We laugh. We hug. We kiss. We just lay there on the sofa. You decide to take bath. Sometimes we bath together. But usually I wait for my turn and cleaning the mess first: our shoes, bags, papers, documents, put it on the right place.

After I took the shower, we’re back together again on the sofa, just sitting there still with our white bathrobe. Tonight you don’t do the take-home works. You just sit there with your masker on. You put the masker on my face too. Now we just like silly green aliens on their white robes who surprise the pizza-delivery guy when you open the door. I order it because you’re hungry again.

You eat quite lot but never get fat. I envy you somehow, I said.
I hear you chuckles, if you don’t want the pizza, I’ll eat it all.
Then I eat my slice, No, thanks, I’m hungry too.

After eating, you put the cucumber slices on your eyes. But I don’t; I want to watch the night news. You hear it too. We comment the news and laugh.

Hours later, we’re on the bedroom. It’s not that elegant, but still has the comfortable atmosphere. You’re lying on the bed. I walk to the corner and turn on the old gramophone I bought at the garage sale. The plates are the classic sixties-swing. Sometimes we dance together. Some other times, we just hear it while reading the novels or making love.

You stop reading and put the novel on the desk on your side of the bed. You turn off the reading lamp on the desk.
You kissed me, Do you want to sleep now? You asked.
I’ll have another chapter, dear. I’m still drowning in my reading, I don’t even turn around.

There’s a moment of upsetting on your face but you’re understand it already. I love reading and writing, that’s why I gave up the architect profession just to take the job I always wanted to have, works on local newspaper.

…I’ll have sleep first then. Goodnight dear, don’t stay up too long, you drive the upsetting thoughts from your mind.

I, get sober, stop reading. I look at your back. I place the page-marker on the page, close the book, and turn off my reading lamp. I put the book on the desk on my side of the bed and move towards your back,
Goodnight, dear.
I kiss your hair. You turn around and placed my hand underneath your neck so I can hug you.

We hug each other, and not long enough fall asleep at the same time as the city descends and rests its emotion into the shadow of the night.

* * *

I have all the things that he doesn’t have,

but he only has one thing that I don’t have.

And it's the only thing that does matter.

If only you would see how good-looking I am in that black outfit.

If only you would see how I comb my hair neatly because you always said that it’s messy.

If only we would spend this Saturday night together.

If only you could hear my new story I prepared for you.

If only I could give you the pink carnation. I bought it this morning so it could be such a surprise for you when we meet. But we don’t meet at all. You cancelled it because he’s there at your house.

I was ready leaving the house with that black outfit, combed hair, the pink carnation. I stand for a moment in front of the closed gate. The flower is still fresh and I want to give it to you tonight. It might have been lifeless tomorrow. I don’t even know whether we meet tomorrow or not.

Should I just put the flower outside your door? No, he might have a look at it and it will be such a problem then for you.

Darn it…

I throw the flower into the garbage pot then light a cigar I take from my pocket. I walk nowhere, giving up the option to where my both feet take me to.

I take a mouthful smoke from the cigar, then breathe it out completely out of my lung.

…goddam it.


* * *

Another cloudy afternoon, it had been like this since few days before. I looked down again and watched the road I walked. The quality of the blacktop surely wasn’t that good. There were bumps everywhere. I never like road like this, it made me had to look down, concentrating on which step I had to take so I didn’t slip my feet or fell just because of the bumps. The second reason was I couldn’t enjoy the scenery of the sky and guess the shape of the cloud at that time.

It was because I have to look down.

It was two good reasons for me not liking the road, I think. But more and more I think of it, it was a bit of denial. The two reasons were acceptable and not quite enough for me to make it such motives. I didn’t even care about the cloud, or the dusty field, or the slope, or the bumps.

The reason why I don’t like walking down there was because I felt it was a bit lonely walking there alone. It made the road seems far enough. The funny thing was I never think it was that long when I walked along with you; the distance just shrinks and the time flies by.

It was because of you.

I yielded and sighed, but continued walking there.

* * *

There were kids playing hide and seek when I pass through there. Oh, how I missed the time when I played the game every afternoon with my friends when I was a child. I saw one hiding at the back of the pick up. He watched me moved alongside the car, put his finger in front of his finger and made a quiet ‘Sssh!’ to me. I smiled. But then I thought if the seeker saw me smiling, he may be interested with the back of the pick-up. I look around, the seeker was in front of me, but he didn’t look at me. He was looking the other direction, so I just look forward again to save the hiding kid.

The sound of laughing, running steps, and yelling from behind followed me into the alley, making reverberation voices as if they were for me. The rough-plastered walls didn’t absorb them at all. The voices kept replicating to direction I walked. Or maybe they were following me intentionally?

I took the right turn and kept walking until I saw your door, opened. I saw you in there, sitting in the sofa. You look pretty with your dress and perfectly fine with your astonishing smile.

So, you were waiting for me.

I didn’t know since when but I noticed that all the voices were gone, completely disappear.

* * *

‘I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?’

‘Sorry for what? There’s nothing to apologize for.’

‘I’m sorry for the day when I canceled the meeting.’ You looked me into the eye, and somehow it was shivering me.

I smiled, ‘It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. It was a grief though.’

‘Aw, I’m sorry dear, really. Just stop pretending it was okay, I know it’s irritating you.’

‘Okay, okay. I forgive you if you give me a kiss.’

‘I’ll give you thousand kisses.’

All of sudden, you kissed me. The moment just lasted for a second, but it was enough for making me feel the warm emotion flowing from your lips to mine. I was surprised; I didn’t see the kiss coming.

‘So, am I being forgiven now?’ You look at me again.

I, sat there beside you, still in the stunned position, gave you the strange look. I still didn’t believe how you had kissed me.

Did she just kiss me?

It was a shocking certainty, legitimating the facts that love has come and spread it wings once again. Yet, I still sat there with that stupid I-don’t-believe-it looks.

You chuckled, laughing at me.

‘Ha ha, what’s with the looks? And am I being forgiven or not?’

‘…I was waiting for the next nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine kisses actually.’

‘Ha ha,’ you kissed me again.

‘Okay, I forgive you. Nine-hundred-and-ninety-eight kisses more, if you don’t mind?’

You laughed then put your hands on my cheeks. Once again you give that loving look that made me as frail as thin glass then suddenly shattered and broke into pieces. It was the indication of a love symptom. And both of us were infected.

‘You’re a really funny guy, don’t you know that?’ (peck) ‘And I like you.’

‘Fair enough, since I like you to.’

Nine-hundred-and-ninety-seven kisses to go.

* * *

He doesn’t know what to feel. If it’s not anger, then maybe it’s grief.

He already arrived there when the message come. Standing there with all the rain showering at his black umbrella, he gives empty looks at the sloping road. It is the road to her home. He just has to walk for a hundred meters or two, and opens the gate and knocks the door like he used to do. But the sudden arrival of the message anguishes him, makes him feels so desperate just to think about what decision he should make.

Should he continue to walk there, or should he turn his back and crossing the road walking home, he doesn’t know. The first option seems very satisfying for him, but it’s the second one he takes.

So he turns and starts walking. The rain drops madly, and somehow it makes him melancholy. Maybe it’s just the accumulation of the sadness feeling; he used to think but he tries not to think with her.

He tries to think nothing, and he does think nothing, except the sound of Louise Louisa starts playing on his mind. It was the silly companion (no, he doesn’t think it’s silly at all), the comfort and the emotion, and the slow motion moments. It was the overcast room, and the chuckles, and the beating. It was everything.

It is everything.

He remembered how dark the room was, but he could recognize her figure very well. He remembered how she lay down on the bed while he softly whispered the words through her ear:

Stay with me, don’t want to be, alone…

But now, he just walks back home. The heavy rain disturbs him, but not quite to make him hate it. The umbrella shields him from the raindrops. It’s not that big though, his shoulders wet already.

He looks up and watches the back of the umbrella, and thinks about something,

Yeah, it only fits for one person down here…

So he continues walking home, alone.

The Colorful Cinema and The Perished Dream

The Colorful Cinema

We walked passing the food court, the place was very inconvenient with bright orange and green everywhere. They told me why it is very inconvenient – they made it like that. I told you why it is very inconvenient: they made it like that. We walked passing the posters, we entered the cinema lobby.
You asked, ‘What date is it? Is it eight already?’
I looked at the date on the display on my cell phone and answered, ‘Yep, June 8 it is.’
And then you said, ‘Oh, there’s the film.’
And I said, ‘Where?’
You said, ‘Studio 2.’
And I just said, ‘Oh.’

The cinema was quite empty. There wasn't many people there.
‘Shall we buy the ticket?’
I looked at the schedule behind the cashier, ‘It’s still an hour again though.’
You insisted on buying it first, ‘Let’s just buy it and then take a walk outside.’
We bought the ticket, twenty-five thousands each. I gave her the money. She gave me the tickets. I gave you the tickets. But you give it back to me (‘I’m afraid I’ll forget where I put it’). So I put it in my bag, at the back of The Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian.
‘Just remember that it’s at the back of the novel.’
‘I’ve told you that I’m a forgetful person.’
‘We’ll see about that later.’ I smiled.
You smiled. I looked your smile. It was a stunningly gorgeous smile. And I could felt the time abruptly elapsing in slow motion, making me could see your every slight movements from your feet until the hair. The sound suddenly disappeared – I heard nothing except my own heart beating.

This was the time when the dramatic moment comes in film, like when Neo dodging the bullet. I could even amplify it with such black-and-white picture, but I choose it remained in colors. I remember, the lobby was shady red with blue and white signs. Your hooded t-shirt was green. I wore a yellow t-shirt with a beige cardigans on. My pupils were grey while yours were brown. Our jeans were a matching blue. I really enjoyed it until right after you really knocked the sub-consciousness out of me, by simply just saying,

‘Let’s go outside and find a place to sit.’
I sobered. ‘Okay,’ followed with a peculiar act in just a milliseconds time.

Luckily you didn’t notice.

* * *

The Perished Dream

So there we were, outside, trying to find a place to sit. I saw couples walking by holding each other hands. I saw it but think nothing. Did I try to think nothing or did I think nothing, I wasn’t quite sure.

Anyway then you said, ‘How about… there?’
And I said, ‘Where?’
You fingered, ‘There.’
And I just said, ‘Oh.’

We walked into the front of the Japanese restaurant. It has this big log at the façade for the waiting list. But we sat there and people passing by watched us like we were some sort of weird couple smoking there at the display. Maybe they considered us as a part of the unusual display, especially when you put my big headphones on. I wanted you to hear my other band songs. It was semi-acoustic one. I played the bass but sing few songs too.

And you realized, ‘Could this voice be… yours? It’s good…‘

I turned my head around trying to look the other way to keep you from seeing my blushing cheeks. But you realized. You teased me, I blushed. And after me begging you to stop teasing, we talked and talked again.

You talked about your perished dream, ‘Have you watched Great Expectations?’
‘Yes. You like it so much, do you?’
‘I still played the movie every week.’
‘Why are you quitting for just some silly reasons?’
‘I don’t know. I just quitted. I don’t even want to try it again.’

The voice was a soft trembling voice. I saw the look of sorrow in your eyes. You tried to deny yourself how you wanted to paint no more. But you could never lie; when we talked you always talked about the paintings, your paintings. You talked about the smiling faces seeing your paintings.

I gave an empty stare at the fountain in front of us, imagining the smiling faces of them when they look at the picture. I took a glance at your face; there goes the lovely face when you said much about paintings and drawings. So how could you say that you don’t even want to do that again?

You talked about the canvas and the crayon. I stared back at the fountain, listening the rest of the story. Then the gardeners came with a bucket full of flowers. They put the freshly-picked flower blooms into the fountain. I don’t know what the name of the flowers was, maybe you know it. You were the one who always wanted to have a flower shop. Maybe I’ll ask you later.

I wanted to go to the gardener that held the bucket and asking for a flower to give to you. But it was very harsh thing to do in the middle of you talking about your dreams. I considered doing it later and postponed the action. Which later I did and you kept the flower. Do you still keep it today? I don’t know but I hope so.

You talked about the picture of your ex,
‘It was when this meeting, we gathered around in a circle and on that time he was right there in front of me. I was so boring, I started to draw his face on my book unintentionally (I just considered him as a friend that time, though.). Later he asked me out, and so on, and then we were a couple. I gave the picture to him, he was quite happy and put it on the fridge.’

‘Haha, so just give your drawing of my face later, okay?’ I tried to tease you.
‘Well, okay, maybe you’ll become the first one I’ll draw after a long time.’

I turned around, trying to find a joking tone or even a mockery one but couldn’t find it in that sturdy looks in your eyes looking straight to the front. I didn’t know what you stared at, but one thing I did know was you weren’t joking, you weren’t teasing, you weren’t even trying to be cynical or something. Was it a sign, a green light, a candle in the dark that you’re trying to give me? Or it’s just a bundle of your last hope that you’re trying to fortitude?

I answered shortly, ‘…I’ll put it on my fridge.’
And suddenly I felt like I became the teased one.

* * *

We stood back, grabbed the bags, and started to walk inside.
‘Red or white?’ I asked you suddenly.
‘White,‘ you said to me.
So I came to the fountain and picked the one of the white blooms from the fountain.
‘For you,‘ I gave the flower to you.
‘Thank you,’ you opened your right palm, it was dirty, ‘Oh, my hands are so dirty, sorry.’
‘It’s okay. Maybe it’s because of the log. Look at my palm; it’s the same like yours.’

‘What is the flower’s name?’
‘I don’t know any flowers name – you’re the one who wanted to be a florist anyway.’
‘Haha, I don’t know either.’
‘White, huh? Could it be tulips?’
‘No, it’s not.’
‘…lilies?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I don’t know anymore name of white flowers.’
‘If it’s red then you’ll consider it as a rose?’
‘Maybe.’
'Ha ha..'

The automatic doors opened. We walked in and went up by the escalator until the top floor. We walked passing the food court, the place is very inconvenient with bright orange and green everywhere. You told me why it is very inconvenient – they made it like that. I laughed and said, ‘I feel a strong sense of dejavu… could it be we already have been here together on the past life?’

You chuckled. There goes the chuckle again, I said it in my mind. I chuckled.
We walked passing the posters, we entered the cinema lobby. We bought popcorn caramel and ice lemon tea. The cashier gave us the popcorn,
‘…is this it?’
‘Why?’
’They gave much much more at Blitz.’
‘Oh, the popcorn? Haha, you’re a silly popcorn boy..’
‘…but you ate it too before, right?’
‘But I’m not making such mess like the way you ate it.’
‘Okay, I’m not going to share it with you..’
‘Hey, this time I’m the one buying it.’
‘I don’t care.’

It was just a silly childish game we played. The cashier seems to look at us and worried whether we would make a ruckus right in front of the popcorn machine beside her table. Then we laughed.

We waited for a while – the doors hadn’t been opened yet. It wasn’t that much people waited in front of the studio. Even for the premiere of the film.
‘I wonder why there’s just a little people here…’
‘Maybe because of it’s Friday?’
‘Hey, it’s Friday night..’
‘We have six-day work. Luckily my college has five so I could spend the Saturday sleeping for the rest of the day.’
‘You lazy bum.’
‘Can’t help it, sleeping is one of human basic needs.
‘Haha, there’s a good point, clever one.’
‘Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment.’

The conversation stopped because the door was finally opened. We waited for people getting in for a moment, and got ourselves in after no more people out there. I gave the tickets to the checker. She ripped the half of the tickets. She gave the rest of the tickets to me. I gave one of the tickets to you.
‘Choose one.’
You raised your eyebrows, ‘Why didn’t you keep it?’
‘Be romantic, okay? Keep it as a memorabilia of our date.’
‘Haha, okay.’

You picked the right one. I looked at the ticket, C-8, which meant that you got C-7. Hmm, I wanted to have the number seven, but it was okay anyway.

We looked at each other, smiled. I nodded my head a little to the left, ‘Shall we going in?’
You answered nothing, just smiled pleasingly and going in. It was like such a romantic act - we acted as if you were the Cinderella and I was the Prince Charming asking you to dance down the dancehall.

It wasn’t that much of audience inside the cinema. More than half of the red seats were empty. But I wasn’t surprised about it either. It was Friday afternoon and most of the people still busy in their cubicle working. The audiences there were mostly the teenagers, high school students; maybe they went home first and changing the uniforms right after the school hour was over then came here.

However, I didn’t care if it was empty or full.
As long as you were there with me, I didn’t care if it was empty or full.

* * *