Langsung ke konten utama

It's Still November



Dear Diary,

It’s 2nd November 2015. It’s supposed to be my scary day anyway. But, I want to tell you something I really feel pain in. It has been two days. I got super dizzy over my head. I took some pain killer. I took some blood supplement. I took it anyway but it’s not work.

So, last evening. Sunday, 1st November 2015. I asked my best Jazzy to walked around with me. Like always. To looked for some fun evening with Iced Cappuccino over our hand. We talked about the job, the people who always screw our life, the people we’ve been before that we don’t want around anymore, and the life’s change.

Remembering when we first meet at the college. When our embrace glance start everything. And it’s been four years since then. Actually I was surprise on how Jazzy saw me in the first time. She though that I’m good. I mean I’m perfect. Always in a great appearance and the best mood all of the entire day. And of course super smart. I was laughing at her over and over again when she told me so. I’m not that perfect little girl, sweetheart.

November

Then, the words keep flowing. We talked about our next step. One step closer to the edge. About what the kind of creature we want to become five years ahead? And that’s made us crazy. Because sometimes life doesn’t come with instructions. You walk, you decided, you take, you deal, and you’ll see what really you are the next step. Me and Jazzy still enjoy our each Iced Cappuccino. We were looking at the sky while arguing why didn’t alien take us with them? We laugh super loud that part.

Then, she asked about me. Because last time I went with her, I took her with me to hospital in order to saw my Dad. And in the reality she finally knew what I’ve been dealing with along this time. She figured out the reason why I always feel mess, broken, and vapid. And absolutely nothing. And at that day, my Dad said something that he hasn’t to say. It hurted me. Till now. Even, in this moment my Dad still stay at hospital while I’m typing down this fucking feeling just to make it better.

All I know that my Dad has already change. Totally change. He wanted something huge in his life in the other hand all we (me, mom, and sisters) could effort never really enough to him. I will never be good enough for him. So do they (sisters and mom).

And the worst part is I will be very poor. Because Dad will sell all of his. All of his. Including our house. I mean Dad’s house. So, I have to keep focus on how it will be work when I decided to looking for good job so that I can handle this. This is really big deal for me. I’m not afraid to be broken, to be hurt even more than this because I know so well about the pain, about the feeling of rejection by your special Dad, about feeling nothing when you’ve gave so much to your precious Dad, about feeling anger that you always hiding in the bottom of your broken heart in order to never let another family see it. I felt that way. And right now I become a lil bit resistant. When pain will never take me down anymore, when tears will never let me apart in to million pieces, when all of sudden my dreams coming around and asked to be bring it to life again.

It’s November anyway. Still November. I still have so many plan to conduct.

And for you Jazz, thank you for always there when I feel nothing.

Rosalie

Komentar

Postingan populer dari blog ini

AL-ONE

Pernahkah kau bercerita sedikit saja kepada hujan? Kepada awan yang membuat lukisan kelabu di kaki langit paling jauh. Entah itu cerita tentang apa. Mungkin tentang kelinci tetangga sebelah yang kupingnya panjang sebelah, atau tentang pohon di depan rumah yang tidak kunjung tumbuh besar.  Pernahkah kau sedikit saja mendengar cerita? Mendengar cerita apapun. Ketika yang bercerita sudah mulai menangis dan berharap iba pada Sang Pencipta keadaan. Ketika yang disebut kata atau kalimat sudah mulai sulit untuk diverbalkan. Semua hambar dan menyendat secara perlahan. Hingga lirih. Tak terdengar. Hanya satu dua tetes air hangat yang mulai menyemai wajah kusam di pipi yang tak indah lagi. Pipi itu bisa saja pipimu, atau pipiku. Bisa punya siapa saja. Yang merasa pernah mengalami sendiri. Dan enggan untuk berbagi. Enggan untuk memulai kisah yang serupa. Atau sekedar enggan untuk membuka yang telah usang. Maka, memang diam menjadi pilihan paling masuk akal. Aku mulai heran da...