The Closed Door

He knew exactly about how much I like to drown myself in the sea of past memories. I told him all the stories so many times yet he'd still want to hear, even the repeated one. Once I asked whether he was bored, he said as long as I like it, he's okay with that. But I'd like to defence, too.
"It's just the past. I don't like it. Not really."
"But, you smile?"
"Am I?"
"Every time, princess. Even before the story start I can see it coming. You're too obvious."
That's him. He's actually a good guy to chat with, simple, always talk as it is. Sometimes the way he frankly said his appraisal was just irritating. In the other way I like the way he paid attention to the details, because I think it suits me much. It seems complicated and hard to believe, but I like his both sides. The one who were always claimed as an unromantic guybecause he believes there's a faint boundary between romantic and deceitfulunconsiously always carried the talk romantically. In a way he didn't understand. In a way no one could ever understand. The only peculiar thing about him was the fact that he'd always call me "princess". A bit childly calls from a simple guy like him and slightly bother me but I just don't mind it.
I see he was just fine. But they said seeing could be deceiving. Unfortunately I forgot it as I just easily let the door wide open and let him in. I'm not sure if the door was too wide, way too wide for him to get in and get out, or simply because he was just too good. I said he's a good guy, remember? He's, a good guy. He's a good listener. He's good in noticing his surroundings.
One thing he failed in, was to remember one big rule for entering one's territory: not to break anything. The damaged he caused obviously changed its shape. A shape that will never be the same again.
 


Sometimes when we try so hard to understand life, it turns out to be vague, more and more. How can someone who I used to tell about past, now becoming a part of the past itself. No one knows. 

The door that was wide open, never seem to open again for him. Hung a board on the door, written:
If I let you in, please don't break anything.

Misperception Between Us


"Even in my default facial expression I've been mistaken for a frown."
I don't know what to write. At least, right now. All I know, I need to write something here because I want it. Perhaps since I unable to express my feelings properly I thought writing is the best releasing tool. Still, I'm not a good writer either.
For me, it's not easy to express what I feel in the right way. Oftentimes, people are frequently misperceptions my act because maybe I expressed it in a wrong way. People thought I'm arrogant while actually I'm just me, the overly shy and clumsy me. How could I start a conversation if it's so hard even mere to say hi? "How to greet them properly?" "What if they laugh at me?" "Should I greet them or just quietly standing here pretend like no one sees me?" Really, I think to much about what people say. Even in my default facial expression I've been mistaken for a frown, then I was told to have breakfast so I can smile.

I recalled something. Something from the past,
unfinished business-whether the same thing was what happened to us?
If so, maybe it was what precisely happened to me. That I wrongly expressed my feelings to him. Still a question stroke me sometimes: why did he draw himself away instead of begs for explanation. I intentionally don't put a question mark because it was my question, I no longer questioned it. Not because I've finally found the answer. 
 
Sometimes we may wonder why certain things happen to us while life doesn't offer exact answers. I think that's okay. It's in human blood to ask question. The creature with neverending questions. But maybe that's not why we're here, to answers all the questions. Instead, maybe we should just live it, enjoy it, and realise one thing: we don't have to know or understand everything.

Someday,
if the universe allows me to see him again,
maybe we'll figure it out,
maybe I'll got my answer,
maybe not,
maybe I'll never see him again,
maybe some other possibillities will happen instead.

At least I know one thing that, misperception has been contribute an important role in my life.  
 
   

"If it takes forever to find out a life means, then make it forever lasting journey of understanding."

- lucedale.co

A DAY WITH CUP OF JOE



It was an afternoon talking in a coffee shop with my friend. Actually I’d rather call her as my best friend considering she’s the one who bear up after find my bad. But if I have to remind myself over what I’ve done to her before, I sense it’s inappropriate for me to call her best friend. Even just to ask her permission takes me a big guts. I called that day as how I seize her day, because she will soon get marry and leaving the town. I hate that leaving-thing and so is she, but since it’s for the good, that’s the thing we have to face and nothing we can do but accept it.

I’m a team hot coffee, but I’m not a coffee person. I even rarely going to a coffee shop. After we had our order placed I explicate to her I’m in a state of coffee-craving—with latte art—thanks to some movie about coffee. As simple and superficial as that. If you start to guess the movie, yeah maybe some of you will strike and guess it right. Anything is, the movie successfully raise the degree of my curiosity and a good thing about this movie, it tries to explain that anything we do with ambition—no matter how great its result, will certainly be defeated by anything we do with love—no matter how ordinary it looks.

I was just.. Really? Is that true? And there I am in a coffee shop drinking hot coffee. Because of a movie.




I was confused to decide what coffee to order, seeing the menu showed foreign terms for the coffee. What’s the difference between Long Black and Affogato? Or Piccolo? No idea. I definitely a beginner. She was just easily decide what coffee she wants to order—hazelnut one. So I asked the waiter’s opinion for a sweet-tasted-coffee—I dropped the selection to Caramel Macchiato. I had hot coffee, she had ice coffee. Her ice hazelnut coffee will obviously tasty because who doesn’t love hazelnut? But I haven’t tried macchiato—eventhough the caramel will contribute for the sweet taste, I’d still waiting for it to surprise me. And it taste good, sweet at first sip, followed by bitter sensation—or feeling? Oh I truly like it, this coffee. The way sweet taste of caramel didn’t eliminate bitter sensation of coffee iself.



The movie says Cappucino fits people who adore beauty and tenderness. I’m not coffee savvy, but this hot Caramel Macchiato might be represent me. I believe upon everything in this life was created in pairs. When I placed my order, I may be anticipating for the coffee would be sweet-taste. But deep down inside my heart, I know I don’t want to missed the bitter taste. Because in the end, all those things will eventually follow. Just like my first encounter with her since the first year of senior high school, will soon deal with parting ways—temporary parting ways, so is this coffee. The sweetness shall come with the bitterness. I choose hot—aside from the fact that I want latte-art—I guess I seek refuge in coffee, so that it bring me warmth for my cloudy days and cold heart.

I can feel this meeting was written in the fate because as I took a sip from my cup, our talks got widened. From her wedding preparation to our any other friends’ wedding, the latest news of our old friends to my former crush. Continued until we secretly agreed to the word: “How can?” towards life’s noisy confusion and questions that sometimes there’s not always an answer. That’s what question was all about, to be questioned. We may find answers and we may not. When we don’t find it, doesn’t it make us think more philosophically?

Or should I try another coffee to seek answers of all the questions in my head?



Maybe one day, years from now. We'll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot.

(Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind)

DEALING WITH PROBLEM (S)



I took a sip of mom’s tea or having snacks while my eyes set straightly to a drama series (Turkey, recently) or taking a good snap for my instagram; everytime I feel like ‘huh?’ over my life. Either because I’m to perplexed to think of solution to my problem, or I just can’t state what exactly my problem is. I feel like ‘huh?’ and those above are kind of my medication.

There was a moment when I have to deal with a problem, a lot of thoughts alternately came through my mind. Mostly begins with a question in my head, then come alternatives A, B, C along with each option’s plus minus. It’s like you were listening to a scenario, but this, happen inside your head. Chill, if you think you can’t imagine, because neither can I.



Then what?
I will keep on thinking about it and only thinking and doing literally nothing, as if I was dealing with it by oneself. I forgot one thing. I have Allah.
A conversation between a Mom and her Daughter consciously cause me to realise it.
Mom asked Daughter for praying before sleep and don’t be afraid when you sleep in dark as the lamp is off and Daughter agreeably said so, while affirming that afraid is irrelevant after you pray, because Allah’s with you. It is okay if we can’t see Allah, for Allah can always sees you.

It brought my tears blurred my sight, literally and metaphorically, as what Daughter said is true. Also the fact it is coming from a four-going-to-five-years-old girl.




God, I have a big problem. Hey problem, I have a BIG GOD!