It was 2000, my dear, 9 years ago. When I was in Yogya, studying Broadcast, and just have a rough broke up with my boyfriend, who happened to be my partner in every ‘crime’ too. I was surrounded by nice seniors (seniors in Yogya definitely better and better than seniors in Jakarta) who never stop sharing knowledge and wisdom to me. Even so, inside I still feel lonely and sad.
It was just yesterday, when I found it. See, I’m trying to clean and organize my stuff lately. Since I kept everything that matters to me since I was a baby, I have a lot of stuff, including color feathers I collected and exchange with friends when I was 9 (I don’t know why I did that). Between these stuff, I found a bundle of notes I made since I was 8. Honestly I wasn’t having so much fun reading them (because most were about the searching of love and needs to be listened).
Until I found a blue book that I believe it’s not mine (because mine should be fancy, and this one is a boring look book). I read it. The book filled with poems, which written in a very bad handwriting. But I can read them. Then, I remember him, the man who wrote these poems. After several pages, I saw my own poems, written in a good handwriting (I don’t write that good anymore, how silly). Some of my best friends wrote there too, once. Then I saw his poems again, then mine, then him, and so on. I thought this might happened when we were in high school and we exchange books, like I did with other friends too. We even exchanged diaries. But when I look up the date, it was 2000.
Especially when he wrote a very nice poem, confessing his love for me that has been there since 3 years ago. After that poem, I wrote a song lyric ‘I have a dream’ and there was none others but blank pages. And the book still with me.
What shocked me most is that I don’t remember any of this has happened. I remember we wrote poems, in that book, I remember that he loves me, but I don’t remember how I reacted after that confess poem, at all. I don’t even remember how I managed to keep exchanging that book with him so we can write each other. I was in Yogya and he’s in Jakarta. I’m not sure that I sent the book from Yogya, or received the book in Yogya. Is that mean that the book was in Jakarta? And is that why I lost contact with him until now?
A while before I sleep, as usually, I wrote. It was 7 a and I’m very tired. So I let my mind unconsciously lead my hand to write. That’s what makes me surprise, when I read my notes again just now, when I just woke up.
On that last note, I wrote how I wanted to meet him. How I wanted to see him once again, see if life has treated him good. And if there’s a chance, I wanted to let him know that it was never him that made us lost contact. It was me, who ran away from the feelings I had for him that time. Afraid of what might happens if he found out that I loved him too, all that time. Afraid of the fact that we’re far away from each other. Afraid of losing him.
And if I have enough time, I wanted to hold him because I owe a long apologize. To abandoned his feelings that way. To let him hope when I was step back and put distance, but my feelings grows inside, and I guess he never knew.
And now I know it doesn’t matter anymore. I remember tried to call him at home, when I was move in to Jakarta – 2001, but he never returned my calls. I asked friends, nobody know where he is. He disappeared, out of my life.
A lot of things happened in that 9 years. A lot of lost and found. But this confess poem is my greatest found so far. It’s written sincerely with pure love, that I believed that if I took the chance this love would set me free in many levels, and we’re still together up ‘til now. And when I read it, my dear, oh how I feel warm and so blessed. That once in this life, someone loved me for who I am, even for my fragile and silly heart. For once in my life, I had truly loved, truly loved, by someone like him, a gentleman.
And for that, Vary Trisyandi, I wish you the best in life, as you’ve given me the best in my life. I’ll say a little pray for you, every night, wherever you are, may you always surrounded by love. May you always be that gentleman, who touches people’s life warmly, and of course, may you always have that big heart for your loved ones, for your self.
I’ll keep the book with me, as I know you might continue your life and that book shouldn’t be there to distract you. If we meet someday, we’ll meet. Until then, God bless you, dear.
So my child, I have another digging to go now, hopefully I’ll find something silly to show you someday. I love you, you know that. And yes, I love you more than love your Dad (Sssh, don’t tell him, yaa?).
Saturday, February 28, 2009 at 2:27am