The Small Things

It was in the afternoon, I began talking with my senior in the office.
She sat behind me, older than me (well, I'm one of the youngest in the office thou) we are around seven years apart.  She's been married and found the man of her life, so she frequently told me the story of her marriage life.  I have no problem about it, as I always all ears for others love story, because I found it interesting to see the way people fall for each other.  It never gets boring.

The topic that day was about the one thing, that her husband's did and made her fell in love all over again.
Just like the first time, when the cupid's arrow hitting both hearts.

"Do you know what, my husband is not that sweet husband. He rather straightforward.  But, when we go on trip to Bali last month, he sing and play guitar in the bar.  He loves to sing and play guitar, I know, but I realise that the moment, I fall in love all over again with him."

The story enchant me, I began to ask this question around: "What is the one thing that your lover/partner do and makes you realise why you fall in love with him/her?"

Answers were amusing - when I see her wearing my favorite clothes, when she interacts with her friends, when he cry over something, when he cooks and many more.

Then, I asked myself, the very thing that you did and made me smile so bright and looked back how I fell in love with you.  Those in the way when you were hustling, for others.  In the way you did small things for humanity, and let your thoughts consumed by other people, to make world a better place to live, to change the world in every possible way.

And I believed, love is the small things, like pieces of puzzle, that we then collect those part of small things and make it bigger and bigger until we figure out the picture and we can't live without even a very small part of it.

(Maybe) It is Love until it is not

I've been wanting to write lately and I wrote several notes then saved it.  All in the draft folder, just like that, waiting to be published or deleted.

I know I should write something else, that is more important, my thesis, but I just don't.

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Tonight I sit on my bed, covered with blanket, in the realisation that I'm 24 years old.
I started this blog when I was 17, around seven years ago, how time flies. And I can't believe that I keep writing, despite of everything happen in life.  This blog is the only blog I have, just like a home. Whenever I feel something, I come back to this virtual blank paper.  Yes, for me, to write is to heal a broken heart.

Looking back, I feel that this year is the busiest year of my life. I don't know, if it's real or I just make it seems so. I come home late, overtimes, working on the weekends and everything.  I spend some of my times hustling, like, never stop.

The consequence? I leave my final thesis behind.
I am crying for it, struggling for it until I don't give it a sh*t. I stop making time for it.
I feel like I'm carrying a big big stone on my shoulder, but I pretend that I'm fine with it.
I run away, flee from it. I'm a total mess - I have never been such a big procrastinator like this.

However, while running away, I make time for some other good sh*t like sports.
I regularly do Squash, try Thai Boxing and Zumba. I also meet some guys that I enjoy hanging out with. I spend time being happy in a way of escaping the duty.

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Among all I meet this guy.

I meet him exactly after I come back from my mom's hometown. That time, I was just being okay again after my previous relationship that didn't worked out.

I am intrigued by our first conversation, though it doesn't lasts.  He is very busy, he seems.
In fact, we both busy.  I'm not that girl to make the first move, strange, I feel I need to check him out again, give it a 'funny' try.  I do it. We talk almost everyday ever since.

Not-so-small town, Jakarta. The place where I born and raised, I meet him.
I'm the type to over-think things, so, thoughts wildly authorise my head.

Out of all the people in the world, I meet him.  We are years apart, once, oceans apart.

However, after all this time, he is the first guy that I can picture my life with.

I like it, the time when we are together.  I like it, when we talk about our unnecessary childhood.

He sleeps on my shoulder, I asks so many things to him. We come to dinner together, while he checks his e-mails, still. I asks "why you have to be so busy?" He tells me to deal with it.

We sips our coffee and tea, and laugh endlessly for the guests over there falling from their chair.

One of my favorite moment of us, the sign that we are alike.

But we play the game.

I hate it, he tell the world instead of me.
Whether it's right or wrong, we are comfortable sitting in front of each other without talking.

In silence, sometimes we find love, sometimes it just emptiness.  I wonder which one is us.
It seem impossible, until we prove those people that says we won't lasts wrong, or maybe they will prove us wrong.

I often think that we are walking to the gate of goodbye, day by day.
But, I want to enjoy this very moment with him, without chain.

Maybe, it is love until it is not.