We Will Get Together Again (Soon)

Stop…

Please…

You will regret this!

 

I heard a soft, unfamiliar voice, calling my name. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Miss?” I opened my eyes and saw a woman dressed in white. I looked at her and stood up.

“This way, please,” she said as she walked me to a little office with a paper covered bed and a small desk. I smiled to her and said thank you.

A tall man with greying short hair and glasses over a hook nose greeted me. He began to ask me several questions. I told him that I had a terrible migraine last night. I also told him about the super painful episodic tension headaches that I had almost every morning for the past few weeks.

As a matter of protocol, the doctor took my blood pressure, and then he asked me another series of questions. The doctor concluded that the episodic tension headaches I suffered are caused by temporary stress, anxiety, sleep problems, and fatigue. I’m not surprised though. After he gave me his diagnosis, he told me to take some ibuprofen and see how I felt in the morning. Very typical.

I walked back to my place, went straight to my room, throw my bag on the floor, took off my black skinny jeans and tossed it on the floor.  I lay down on my bed. God, I felt like shit. I looked around, nothing has changed. A sketch of a girl with a long black hair that hung on my wall caught my eye. I drew it myself, a long time ago. I stared at the sketch, and it felt like I was staring at her in person. I saw her bitter smile and the angst–and sadness–that hidden beneath her weary eyes.  Suddenly, I felt empty. I felt like something is missing. I felt like there was a hole inside my chest. I felt hollow.

I missed her.

I missed her presence. And it tortured me.

“You will regret this!

You were right. I do. I regret it.



I sat in front of my desk, turned on my laptop, and started to type.
“Old friend, we will get together again, soon,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear.

My tears fall freely as I post this on my blog.

There you are

Since you hide, since you steal, since you hate everything I feel

Since you cheat, since you lie, since you dont wanna try things I wanna try

Since you’ve been gone, my life has move along quite nicely, actually

It was 7 a.m., Friday morning. I woke up, took my phone, and turned off the alarm. I shook my head. God, my head hurt like hell and I felt kinda sick. Fucking hangover. I wish I could sleep for a few hours more, but I promised myself to get things done. Stuffs to do, stuffs to do.

I sat on the floor, lit my cigarette, and stared vacantly at the wall until someone knocked my door. I put on my shorts, and opened the door. It was her, standing in front of my door, still wearing her pyjamas. 

“Wow you look fucked up. You okay, mate?” She said as she stared at me whilst shaking her head.

“I know. Hangover is a bitch,” I said.

“By the way, I’ll make breakfast. Do you want anything?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’m actually starving but I don’t know what to eat. Just give me anything, I don’t mind,” 

“Alright. I’ll be back in 10 minutes,” she said as she walked down the stairs.

I decided to hop into the shower whilst waiting for her. I needed a nice, cold shower to ease my mind. 

The smell of the peppermint soap felt so refreshing and uplifting, combined with a scent of evergreen oils–that came from the scented candles–made me feel like walking in the middle of balsam pine forest. Kind of hypnotising. I love it. I also love the tingling sensation on my skin. For a second I felt like the pressure in my life is all gone. Taking shower is probably the only nice thing I could do to myself.

I jumped out of the shower as I heard a knock on my door. I put on my black long sleeve chiffon top and my black jeans. I opened the door, she said the breakfast is ready. She asked me to eat the breakfast together in the living room, since my dorm room is literally a mess. 

“Is it good?” She asked me as I ate the chicken soup that she cooked for me.

“Yeah. Thanks by the way,” I answered. She stared at me for a few seconds, and then ate her meal. She did it over and over again, so I asked her, “What’s wrong with you, mate?”

“No, what is wrong with YOU?” She replied.

“What? Nothing is-”

“Ha, ‘nothing is wrong’, my ass,” she rolled her eyes, “look, I know it’s been a tough week but you need to stop living like this. I mean, come on, man, you’re not being yourself. You locked yourself in your room, only talk to me when I ask you to have breakfast or dinner together, drinking in your room every night, hangover every morning, and smoke two packs of cigarettes a day. This isn’t you,” she said.

“I know you’re being concern but this is just the way I handle things, you know,” I said as I lit a cigarette. She looked at me in disguise,”I am perfectly okay. It’s just…uh, I am having a hard time. I needed time to be alone and do whatever the hell that can make me feel better,” I took a puff of my cigarette. 

“Do you feel better? Do you think you will be able to handle things if you keep doing this? I’m telling you, you’re a coward. You are not handling things, you just smoke a lot and  get drunk to forget all of your problems and pretend that you are okay when you are completely not okay. You locked yourself in your room, hiding from the world,” she yelled at me. I hate it when she does that. 

“Whatevs, I’m tired of arguing. Gotta go in an hour, I’ve got stuffs to do, so stop ruining my day and mind your own business, ‘kay?” I said. I walked back to my room to avoid her irritating speech.

“Ha. You just act like you’re too cool to care but you cannot fool me. I know deep inside you’re just a weak coward who couldn’t face your own problem,” she kept yelling as she followed me to my room. I am so done with her. 

“You better watch your fucking mouth,” I warned her.

“I’m just saying the truth. You are nothing but a coward trying to look tough,” she said and took a sip of her coffee, “you’re just being insecure, that’s why you need me to help you face your problems,” she added. 

“I don’t need you, you were never there whenever I need help! You never give a shit about me anyway, so, fuck off!” I yelled. I felt the heat all over my face, my hands were cold….and shaking.

“And now you’re shaking,” she grinned, “you’re scared, aren’t you?” I felt sick, my head hurts, my heart beat really fast. But she did not stop talking, “you know what, your anxiety will eat you alive.” She laughed.

“FUCKING STOP IT ALREADY!” I screamed. My knees were so weak, I fell on my knees, gasped for air, I could hardly breathe.

“I will not stop until you realise that this isn’t right,” she said whilst looking at me.

“Dont you fucking dare to tell me what to do,”

“At least try to stop me then,” she grinned devilishly. I hate her. I fucking hate her. I managed myself to stand up, slowly walked toward her.

“Wait what are you do-” without letting her finish her sentence, I wrapped my hand around her neck.

“I’m…ju…st…helping..y..ou,” she gasped for air,”y..ou will reg..ret th..this, you..need..me to..k..keep y..your mind..off..t..the edge,” I smiled. I suddenly felt a strange power came from inside of me, “s..top…p…pl..plea-“she begged. So I stopped. But I guess it was too late. 

“There you are,” I smiled. I saw her figure turned into white smokes and slowly disappeared. 






I heard a knock on my door. My friend who lived next to my room was standing in front of the door. He looked at me confusedly.

“Hey, um, the door is opened and I heard your voice so I just came here. Who were you talking to, by the way?” He asked.

“Oh I was just talking with a friend,” I answered. He looked around my room, there were nobody other than me and him. 

“Uh..on the phone,” I added.

“Ah I see. So I came here to return this to you,” he said as he took a book from his bag. 

“Oh alright, just put it there, mate,” I said, pointing at my desk.

“Thanks for lending me that book. Uh, are you okay though? You look a bit pale,” he asked.

“Do I? Ah it’s probably because I have lack of sleep for the past few days. But I’m okay though, thanks for asking,” I said.

“Alright then. I’ll go back to my room,” he said as he walked out of my room and closed the door.

I put on my make up, straightened my hair, and walked out of my room, going to God-knows-where.

It Doesn’t Matter

She cant tell which one is better; to feel everything or to feel numb.

She was once a girl who always expressed her emotions, her feelings.

She was smiling or laughing when she was happy,

she was crying when she was sad,

she released the devil inside her when something annoyed her.

She smiles even though she knew that her smiling face is weird. She laughs even though the sound of her laughter is annoying–but some people used to love it anyway. She looks awful when she cries but she cries like a baby anyway–she’s lucky enough that her mascara is waterproof. She knows that people hate it when she cannot control her anger, but she does not care. She wants to show people what she feels at the moment, so people can read her. She thinks that people will kindly understand her.

But no one gives any single fuck anyway.

She finally got it, that nobody could understand her. Nobody seemed to care about her feelings. Or maybe, they just didn’t know how to understand her.

She finally understand that she cant control anything but herself. Even herself is sometimes out of her control. But she learned–or at least tried.

It’s not like, “Aw she looks sad, maybe I should comfort her instead of ruin her day even though i really need to say something that probably could make her cry.” Well, a few of people would be kind enough to wait for the right time to talk. But still, anyone could break her heart whenever the hell they want, even when she’s having a hard time, they could just make it worse. Anyone could make her cry whenever the hell they want, even if she already cries a river before. Anyone could leave her, or simply ignore her, even when she needs them the most.

She turned off her emotions. She has no expressions. She is then being heartless. Not because she is unloved or anything. The people she loves taught her that maybe it’s best not to feel anything, or at least, try to hide the feelings well. That is probably the best way to love someone. Even though it would be nice to have them feel what she feels, the truth is they will not understand her feelings. Everyone knows what sadness feels like, they just don’t know how sad she is. She does not believe when someone says, “I know how you feel,” or, “I also feel your sadness.” Because they don’t. They just feel guilty when she feels sad.

Then people tend to misinterpret her. People would like to assume that she is happy when the fact is, she sometimes chooses to laugh when she’s sad. They also would say, “Are you not happy?” when she doesn’t show a single smile on her birthday.

Aw, poor little shit.

Here Comes The Clouds

Hello, internet.

Lately everyone been asking me if I am okay. I am and I am not. I said I am okay because I dont have any reason to say that I am not, yet deep inside I feel like something is wrong with me.

I get mad easily, could be the goddamn PMS or probably just a random mood-swing. Like this morning, I was about to be productive. I prepared everything, I was ready to go to Uni although today’s class is definitely not my favourite class. I ate breakfast, cleaned my room, I even washed my clothes. And then when I was about to go, the lecturer said that theres no class today. I was really upset, idk why. I should have been happy since I dont have to attend that boring class. But I felt like that ruined my whole plans today.

So I ended up not doing anything. And I do fucking regret it. And I bloody hate regrets.

Fucking hell it ruined my mood and sure as hell now I am surrounded by bad vibes. The sun is gone, here comes the clouds.

Goodbye November, Then?

Hello folks, been a long time.

It is the 3rd of December and I think it is a little bit too late to write a ‘goodbye November’ post. But I don’t want to say hello either to December. Because I am just too scared to say hello. I’m scared to meet new things new people and whatever the hell that is new. I am scared. I dont want to say hello to something or someone that will probably end up being a disappointment. I dont want to say hello to another disappointments–it could be death, separation, devastation, et cetera.

Still, I do hate goodbyes, I mean who doesn’t?

I had too many goodbyes in November. My grandma passed away about last week, I let go of some memories, I even said goodbye to the happier version of me (i hope this one was just a temporary goodbye though). Oh, and I said goodbye to some of my hopes.

My road is getting rough and tough, I dont remember the last time I walked peacefully, not being rushed and pressured. Maybe I dont remember cause i never did walk peacefully. I was only pretended to walk when I was actually running.

Some people noticed that the bitter version of me has started her (or its?) domination. The gloomy, not-so-lovely Key appears every day. The smiles are sometimes fake, and sometimes I made sarcastic jokes as a form of my honest feelings/thoughts just so people wont realise that i was actually expressing something. They think I’m joking. Well, I am, and I am not. Kind of both.

I am being rude and harsh to some people in order to build my walls. I am not pushing them, I am just pulling myself out of them. This way, I could use my logic better. As the consequency, yes, I became heartless bit by bit.

It is…exhausting and somehow it feels good in the same time. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy this. I enjoy being able to think crystal clear (not really tho but yeah clear enough). Isnt that a good thing, no?

Bad news is, I enjoy being heartless. Not that I want to be permanently heartless, it’s just…I feel better. I feel like I am able to build myself up again and be bold.

Still, being heartless has its pros and cons. I’ve mentioned the pros. I think the only fatal thing is, I probably(already did) hurt someone else’s feelings. And I dont want that.

I apologise (for what i did and what i will probably do) in advance, then. Eventhough I know it is not gonna be enough. This is for everyone, including myself.

Key.

(Tidak) Apa-apa

“Lu sehat Key? Ga ada apa-apa kan? Pap ga enak hati, tapi semoga lu selalu dalam lindungan Allah ya, Nak.”

“Sehat kok. Ga ada apa-apa juga hehe. Maap baru bales, Pap.” 

Ga ada apa-apa.

Ga ada.

Ga.

Ada.

Ada beberapa hal yang dirasa ga enak akhir-akhir ini. Aku nampak kayak orang linglung yang bisa tiba-tiba tertawa, lalu nangis sesenggukan sambil marah-marah. Then i feel numb. Apa yang salah, ya? Kenapa aku jadi lebih sering marah dan menangis ketimbang ketawa? Aku rasa sepertinya ga ada yang salah dengan semesta. Tapi aku merasa ada yang salah bersalah,  berarti aku yang salah kali ya?

Dan aku minta maaf, kamu ga seharusnya melihat aku yang sedang begini.

Aku bukannya tidak mau menceritakan semuanya secara komprehensif, aku hanya sedang bingung. Kalaupun aku cerita, apa yang harus ku ceritakan? Aku bahkan ga mampu mendefinisikan apa yang aku rasakan/pikirkan saat ini, saking kusutnya isi kepalaku. Pun kalau aku mampu menerjemahkan isi hati dan kepalaku, dan menceritakan semuanya, apa gunanya, sih? Paling cuma bisa menambah beban orang lain, jadi sebaiknya aku diam saja. Anggap saja aku memang tidak mau menceritakan semuanya sama kamu, Mum, Papi, atau siapapun.

Lagipula, aku sudah berjanji pada diriku sendiri, untuk–setidaknya mencoba–menghadapi semuanya sendirian. Kalaupun aku ingin menangis, aku menangis sendiri saja. Aku tidak apa-apa. Aku kan juga ingin dibilang mandiri. Hehe.

Tapi, terimakasih ya sudah mau membantu. 

Satu, dua, tiga,

redup.

Empat, lima, enam

redup.

Tujuh,

mati.

delapan, sembilan,

tidak tahu.

I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.

– Philippians 4:13

Semoga saja, ya.

P.S

Anyway, I don’t want to leave either. I love you (too). Lol

Come Mierda y Muerte

I give up. I cant take all of your bullshit anymore. I had enough of it and I am tired. I bet I can never trust you, or anyone else. No one can be trusted.

I did trust you. Even after i found out that you actually stabbed me on my back a couple times. I decided to give you chances; over, and over, and over again. But this time, i had enough of it. So now, que te jodan. Come mierda y muerte, girl.

People make promises. People act like they care, and it makes me feel like i can actually believe in friendship/relationship. But nah, i was wrong. And now I feel lke shit. No one cares, or, maybe, they just dont know what to do to fix your wounds. The point is, you cannot rely on people ‘cause in the end, you can only stand on your fucking feet.

I am, now, standing on my own feet, struggling to move the hell on. I gotta save myself. I’m done saving some toxic friends who just arent worth my time. Be a good friend and I’ll be good, back-stabbed me, i am done with you, puta. That’s how it works, at least, for me.

The clock is ticking, and this disappointment is still tickling. People may think, that my problem isnt a big thing. Well, hell if i care. ‘Cause how you see it from where you sit, it’s probably 110% different. I aint ask no one to give a shit, anyway.

There is only one person, who would—at least try to—understand. Mum, thank you, you always got my back.