-

 awkward chatters fills the air but it was warm and fuzzy. the warmest ice cream shop ever.

i played with the little babies and our stickers and paint by numbers are all spread out the table.

noises.

    looks behind for a second. 

you were there from an extended invite i did not even know.

 i smiled ( i cried for you in june ). 

said hi and force a laughter. 

you said “its not your baby isnt it?”

“really, that was the first thing you said to me?” almost whispering, half joking. eyes were on us because its a story for the ages. but they were pretending to not see. they hoped to hear. a laughter from your side and a small pat in my head, “how are you?” (that was a first time)

you tried to have the best seat, where our knees touch just like old times, where you can lean your hands in my chair, where you can whisper “can we go for coffee?”

“sure”

“okay”

the group take their photos and stands up

i make sure “right now right? you did not say when, you might have mean next year” and you squinted your eyes, took your key cars into my fingers, 

“sekarang. you hold this”

and so our breath hitched. 

it was my first time in your car.

 31 mei

satu tahun

sejak aku memilih diriku sendiri

itu yang aku ucap dan yang mereka tau

tetapi, 

sebenarnya aku memilih kamu

kamu yang datang tiga bulan lagi, 

 kamu tersenyum tanpa gigi

memilin kata demi kata untuk mengetuk senyum wajah mungil ini

kamu dan kopi di tangan kananmu,

satu gelas yang aku janji belikan

karena aku tak mau ingkar janji padamu

dan kamu yang ucapkan beribu sungkan

(besok, besok kita ke tempat matcha favoritmu)

(aku jemput pukul sembilan)

 It was a sunny day, an old friend at commune, everything just slip out of my mouth, and this is what she says.

"I sense competitiveness"

".."

"from your own self, your past self"

i hate that its true, i keep saying you haven't met the new me yet.

But what if, it doesnt matter?

.

.

for years i have been wondering, making up scenarios, hoping, that when you see me you will see a better version of me. you will put two and two together. you will realise my worth.

but that exactly the thing i have to let go of. the longing not for you but for my ownself. the future me did not deserve to be burdened by my own expectations.

clearly, for what it seems, i am always a step closer to the ideal version, the me from my bubble i wrote years ago in this very blog. should i be proud? should i be celebrating?

but that is not the point, the point is wanting to be better so that i can show you i'm better will only result in hurt.

i should let myself go.

The sky is grey outside, but inside,

its the colour of the flannel shirt i bought as a memorabilia of this feelings you left me with

no one knows but i like the pointed bubbly cheeks when you smile, 

at something sweet your cheek will rise and i can clearly see it from behind. 

no one knows but i take a look at the greys sticking out in your hair, the coffee you bought downstairs, 

the navy blue jacket and the weight on your shoulder.

no one knows when i write poetries when you were gone.

i write poetries when im sad

i write poetries when im afraid

i write poetries when im mad

but most importantly i write poetry secretly behind your back

#

hi you

congratulations on finding love in a dating app, at the age of 27, at this age of isolation, pandemic and recession. i simply think that you deserve it, a person as sweet and thoughtful, deserve all the kind of love you think you deserves.

now that you're kind of off limit, its very hard to walk away. you're a quicksand, a friction in the scenario, a dream i intended to never come true. (real dream btw i dreamt of you one night).

but i know a chair is up there and it was never mine.

and maybe you know that too, that is why it was always a river to cross between us. and i respect you for that. dont worry, im writting this so i could get over you.

for someone who intended to stay as far away as i can, there are only certain things i could wish for you:

i hope you are always basked in the sun's warmth, hidden on your mother's long hug back home, safe under your coat from the pouring storm, full from eating delicacies someone decided to pay you for, enamored for the hard work you put into, appreciated by everyone reconizing your ideas and worth, happy from the love you choose as your forever.

writing this from a taxi back home,

a sad beautiful tragic lover

Sometimes i wonder if we will ever meet again? i always imagine an encounter with visualization straight out of those korean dramas. where the two main leads would meet again, under a seemingly ridicolous place, crossing each other path while the script took them to a twist of the timeline. under a shining light, with fallen leaves and a music only those two can hear. 

or have we did? have we already met? did we already have those kdrama scene? or we almost did? 

perhaps we did crossed our path, 

but maybe i just missed it. 

maybe we did meet on a ridiculous place i never thought of but i took a long fix on my shoes while you were passing by. 

maybe we did met at those crowded malls but you were looking at your phone to care for your surroundings. 

maybe our timeline just did not match. 

i have to tell you the truth, i sometimes took another look when i saw someone resembling you pass me by, ah...yes, i know the last time i saw you was years ago and i am not even sure how you look like right now, but i still do that. 

i would make hundreds of scenario in my head, and pry if it ever come true. 

i still do.

9 May 

4 am