Arabica

Everybody have their own favorite memory from their first love. Mine would probably be my first kiss.
I’m not sure if I can even call it a kiss. It was more like a peck. One that made me blush every time I remember.
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I always knew I wouldn’t end up with him. I always knew our relationship was temporary and would eventually end, because that’s just how most first loves are. However, I was so deeply invested that I didn’t really care about the ending— I just enjoyed every moments while it last.
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It might not make much sense, but my first love wasn’t my first boyfriend. I was quite popular back then, so I changed boyfriends like they’re plastic bags. I changed boyfriends so often, yet I never let anyone stole my first kiss. I always wanted it to be with someone special.  Because? Because I valued myself highly. I knew it should be an honor to be my first love and have my first kiss.
He was probably the second boyfriend I had that year. The longest relationship I had in my adolescence. 10 memorable months. 
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So, where were we? Ah! First kiss!
We were on a picnic date. It was a beautiful day in a beautiful park. The sky was blue with white pretty clouds here and there. The grass smelled amazing. He looked dazzling. He dressed like a McDreamy— you know, the kind of style  you’d imagine  from a lead male character in a romance novel.

We were talking about the future. What would it feel like to be college kids. What would we want to do 10 years from now. Just the usual talk, nothing special. 
I was looking at him as he explained lengthy about his favorite music. His side profile was mesmerizing. His eyes were bright and pure.
Suddenly, he turned his head to me. He smiled and asked, “Do I have ketchup on my face?”
I shook my head, then I went for a peck. Lips to lips. 3 seconds. That’s it.


(Writer’s note : Inspired by IU ‘Through The Night’)

Backstage

In no way do I feel that I’m as good as Shakespeare or Hemmingway. But well, it might be interesting to know where my inspirations come from.
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Tiny bits of my writings do came from personal experience. However, most of the time, it comes from imagination.
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The piece called ‘Falling in Love’ was written when a drummer of a band I used to listen to was jailed for drug misuse. The title and content of the piece was inspired by their songs.
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‘Shiver’ was inspired by a Coldplay song with the same title.
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‘Antagonis’ was inspired by a conversation I had with my husband. It made me wonder how an antagonist must be feeling. Was an antagonist born bad? Or did their circumstances change them? I think it must have been really sad and lonely because the society decided to put a terible label for them, sometimes without trying to know their stories.
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‘Red Queen’ was inspired by the death of Sulli - a kpop star. Sulli was friend with IU, and their fans thought Red Queen was written by IU for Sulli (in addition to Peach).
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‘Lavender’ was written right after I watched a documentary about Princess Diana.
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‘Sorrow’ was inspired by SHINEE Jonghyun’s suicide.
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‘Promise Her the Moon’ was written based on a song with the same title.
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Yeah, so that’s a glimpse of this blog’s backstage— which is my brain, lol.
I have a lot of fun writing here. And the thought of no-one-is-reading really makes me at ease. I can really write with no burden or anxiety of anyone’s judgement. It is very liberating.
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Thank you dear, Blog! I hope you will stay lowkey forever ❤️

Sawang Sinawang

I think the question “how are you?” has a lot of shade and depth.
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“How are you?” he asked-15 years after we last met.
“I’m great, Sir. How are you?” I replied.
“Same old, same old. How is your family?” he said.
“We’re doing okay. I’m a district attorney  now, Sir. My brother lives abroad. My mom is still in our hometown.”
He was the only person who reached out to me when things were tough. He was the only one who offered his ear.
He wasn’t even my home room teacher. I wasn’t even attending one of his class. But he was the only one who noticed.
Thank you, Sir. I am forever grateful.

Falling In Love

It was early morning. I had just arrived at school and remembered that I needed to go to the stationery shop.
That was the first time we met.
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You were already there, a yellow novel in your hand.
I got in to the shop. Told the shopkeeper what I needed and I looked your way.
Our eyes met. You smiled first.
“Hi,” I said nonchalantly.
You couldn’t hear me. You were wearing your favorite earphones.
“Sorry, what were you saying? I was listening to music,” you walked my way.
“Ah, I just said  hi”, I answered. And I just said hi because you flashed me a smile.
“I was listening to a new indie band,” you offered me one of your earphone.
The school bell rang.
“It’s called Crocks. Try them out,” you rushed to class. I should too.
You didn’t get my name. Neither do I.

Shiver

Why didn’t you tell me back then? Why now?
I tried. Perhaps not too hard, but I did try.
It is all too late now, isn’t it? We’re both engaged to someone else.
I’m sorry I chose to tell you. I shouldn’t have.
No, no. Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you did.
You are? Why?
Well, do you prefer to keep your feelings for yourself until the end of the world?
I did think it’s best not to ruin a good friendship.
Do you think our friendship is ruined, now that you decided to tell me?
I don’t know. Is it?
Of course not! You liked me, so what? It doesn’t change the fact that we spent 15 amazing years together. You’ll still be the first person I call for everything.
I’m glad it’s not ruined, but I’m sad too.
God! You drama king! Why?
I don’t know. Perhaps.. Like, how I felt about you.. like, don’t even matter.. It’s like you’re saying my feelings for you.. not substantial enough?
You’re silly! You don’t want to ruin our friendship, but you’re sad that it’s not ruined?
Why did you never look my way, tho? I was literally there.
Well.. you’re like family. I love you like my own blood.
If I tell you 10 years ago, what do you think would happen?
I think I’d say no. But, I’d still want to be friends. Is that selfish?
Kind of. 
Food for thought tho, we’re all somebody’s first love at some point in our life.

Sorry

Do you ever have to forgive without receiving an apology?
That’s a crazy concept. I believe forgiveness is something you should earned.
Let me change my question, will you ever forgive someone who never apologize?
Not in a million years.
Why not? Wouldn’t the grudge only make you suffer?
I need them to know that harm was done. I need to know that they feel misery for doing it, say sorry, and make amends.
So, without an apology, you would resent that person for as long as it takes?
Yes. I don’t want to make it easy for people to hurt others—and not have to deal with the consequences.
I believe that must be tiring. Reconciliation is important for your own inner peace, no? Letting go of unhealthy anger is a good way to achieve good mental health, no?
I disagree. It’s naive to easily let things slide. It’s permissive. And it’s rather unhealthy, in my opinion.

Old News

It was the coldest day of winter. The day someone told me that you started dating her. That girl.
It just proved I was right. You did flirt with her. You did like her. Even when we were still together. But why did you deny? Was it embarrassing to admit?

Honestly, I knew she felt insecure about me. Well, I would feel insecure if I was her. After all, I am me, your first love— and I quoted her in this, “pretty, smart, rich, popular, and kind”.
I even wondered why you would like her. Hm.. perhaps she felt safe and effortless.  Haha! Great things need a lot of care, Charles!

I thought I was a coward for not being able to say it all in your face. For not being able to say I was hurt and I knew all your lies. But, congratulations to me! You were more of a coward. That coldest day of winter proved it all.

For the record, I didn’t wish you well. Not at all. Perhaps I even prayed for the worst for your life. Hehe. It was very childish. But, yeah, we were children. You certainly were.

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(Writer’s note : This series is getting boring to write. I don’t even know where this is going. I feel like, at this point, this is just a journal of a girl’s heartbreak. Pretty uninteresting. Well, we shall see. Sometimes inspirations come out of no where)

A Small Window by The Bay

I rarely talk about my personal feelings or thoughts in this blog. Mainly because I use it more for writing exercise, and not a personal journal. Partly, because I am some-what private about my deeper feelings and thoughts. But, you know what, tonight I want to write about my dad.

My dad passed away 20 September 2014. He was around 51 years old. Very premature, right?

I used to really resent him. I felt betrayed. Angry. Disappointed. Abandoned. Cheated. But after his passing, I feel none of those.  In fact, I miss him a lot. The dad who gave me so much headache—heartache. I miss you, dad.

As I grow older, I realized that he too had his own story. He too was broken and hurt. He was sorry, and probably more disappointed in himself than I ever was.

Sometimes, I feel apologetic because I could have tried to understand him more. Yet I was so drowned in my own pain, I forgot to tend to his.

I wonder a lot about what kind of grandfather he would be. You see, my son always asked for a grandpa—Like grandpa shark. He wanted to have one too. And I had to tell him that his grandpa is with Allah now.

My dad made very terrible mistakes. Even now, I know I am still suffering because of his doings. But, boy, I still wish he is alive! I wanted to whine about the terrible humans I met throughout my life. I wanted to tell him he was right—I did get married too young. I wanted to tell him he was right—I should have stayed near my family and friends, not ventured out to another island with no one on my side. But I wanted to tell him, even though my path wasn’t smooth and easy as he wanted it to be, I had a blast! I met new people, did things I never thought I would, made new friends, gained experience, grew my perspective, and just live a little. Haha. I still am your goody two shoes, dad, don’t worry.

If I were him, I think I would be proud of myself. I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs. I got very good grades and graduated on time from Med School. I got a good husband and had my first-everything with him. I am honest and open minded. I still live by my own values and not get scared to be bold or do the right thing. I grew up well, dad. Not thanks to you, tho. Or maybe thanks to you? I have no idea!

But, dad, you know what I regretted the most? Not being able to say I love you one last time. You called me the day before you passed, and I didn’t say I love you. Will you ever know dad? I love you a lot. I had big negative feelings back then, but none of it was hate. I never hated you.

Maafin kakak, Pa. Waktu itu kakak belum dewasa. Semoga Papa ada di tempat yang terindah di sisi Allah. I love you. ❤️

Sendiri

Kenapa hari ini
rasanya sendiri sekali?

Besar berat kotornya
dipikul dalam sepi.

Antagonis

Bibir merah marun,
Hati penuh dendam,
Pikiran diracuni kebencian.

Tapi tidak selalu begini.

Parut yang didapat sembari melangkah pergi
Dan kenangan buruk yang sulit dihapus sendiri
Membuat harapan baik melapuk.

Di ujung hari, hanya antagonis yang diadili.
Yang lain luput. Enggan mengerti.

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Versi lainnya (dalam bahasa Inggris) :

God, why was I not built less broken? If I didn’t  have too many flaws, I wouldn't be excluded. Maybe I would be invited to parties, had lots of friends, not be left out to sit alone and judged. Maybe I would grow happier, more proud, more optimistic. Maybe my heart wouldn’t hurt this much, and my wall wouldn’t be this high.
Or is all this because I was evil? Is it because I deserved to be ostracized and grew alone?