Tentang Menikah dan Cerita-Cerita yang Tidak Kunjung Selesai

Ketika saya menulis ini, saya belum menikah dan saya belum punya rencana untuk mengadakan pernikahan. Di sekitaran lingkup umur saya dan teman-teman (25 tahun ke atas), adalah hal yang wajar untuk melangsungkan pernikahan. Umumnya banyak yang beralasan karena “sudah cukup umur”, “orang tua udah tua, pengen nimang cucu”, “kebelet kawin”, “udah dilamar, gimana dong?”. Dan tentu saja untuk alasan-alasan lain yang tidak perlu saya pertanyakan atau ketahui. Undangan dan seragam nikahanpun mulai menjadi hal wajar ketika weekend menjelang. Hari yang harusnya bahagia bagi kedua mempelai tiba-tiba menjadi beban bagi sebagian orang. Ada yang bilang, berat rasanya untuk mendengar pertanyaan “kapan menyusul?” yang tidak pernah berakhir. Atau ada yang menjadi cynical melihat biaya-biaya atau tradisi 500+ undangan, atau acara yang “tidak sebenar-benarnya” dimiliki oleh kedua mempelai. Ataupun bagaimana orang-orang membanggakan status pernikahan atau bagaimana mereka merayakan hari pernikahan (ataupun tempat liburan/honeymoon-nya, ffuuuu).

Tapi saya mau bilang: THE HELL I CARE ABOUT THAT STUFFS :))

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I Miss Her This Morning

I miss her this morning. This particular morning, where I find peace with other floating things in universe. Finding myself between million conversation and gazillion collision, of life and death.

I don’t know how to greet her nor guessing what conversation that we will be having. Years ago, maybe I’d pick up my guitar and burst into Oasis’ She Is Love. But I grew up, I’ve been to some places and met many people. She did too. She ain’t love anymore. I just miss her terribly.

I never wonder if she ever thinks the same way. She won’t. I know every inch of her thoughts and I probably know why she left me. But I don’t hold anything against her, I know her. I’m just hoping she’ll ever find someone to settle her in.

Someday, somewhere.

I miss her this morning. This particular morning where everything collide on the perfect order, creating mere conspiracy of the chance of holding her again. For just a second before she’s being her, and I’d go on with my terrible lying of loneliness.

Maybe I’m just being sentimental. Maybe there’s really something between me and her that is still hiding between those days. Those silent days that suddenly become years, and I don’t know whether I will ever see her again.

I want to see you.

And you’ll know that’d be the last conversation we’ll ever had.

Evil

Evil takes force in many faces. Bright colors, beautiful wonders, awesome shapes. They lurk and slip where it fitted. Waiting and calming.

Lie isn’t always the opposite of the truth. And the truth is not always right.

Dance, pretty liar. You know it will always come back to you.

Live awesomely, pretty face. You know somehow, someone will notice your nature.

And pretty liar dances gracefully, laugh carefully. Yet, life is so many things. I believe, you will be alright and one of those night, you’ll learn to forgive yourself. The problem with any other people will always be history. One of those night, they will learn to forgive themselves too.