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Sometimes we outgrow a chapter before we've stopped loving it.

You can be grateful for what that season gave you and still be moving toward a life that's a better fit for who you're becoming.

In a sense of taking a break (finally!) from this never-ending world.

I have never thought I would find this man, moreover be with him.

People said you should stop looking for the right person as if perfect man does not exist.

Yet there he is, and all of sudden I don’t have to be the strong-reliable-eldest daughter anymore.

I remember when I said I can not give up this job, I do not have back up, calmly he said “I am your back up.”

I have never felt as seen before.

I have never felt someone cared enough about my well-being rather than my self.

Even on the lowest days, I know I can rely on him, and the other way around.

I grew up in a house that leaked, walls holding water, conversations sinking, a mother breathing for everyone but herself.

I learned to swim through silence, to smile while drowning, to carry storms like inherited jewelry.

Lately I keep reaching for weather that disappears, mist shaped like men, horizons warm from afar but cold when touched.

Distance is a gentle lie. Fog won’t pull you under.

But some tempests pretend to guide, lighthouses that turn to hollow towers once you get close enough to hear their insecurity echo.

They tell you how to breathe, who to become, what to abandon to earn a softer name.

As if affection is currency. As if safety is conditional.

I don’t want to bargain with the sea. I don’t want to drown to prove devotion. I won’t mistake a storm for home just because it’s loud.

Deep down I know I want land, something solid, something that lets me breathe.

A presence like sunrise, not thunder. Quiet. Steady. Soft where life has been sharp.

Maybe healing is choosing calm over chaos, shore over tide, oxygen over inheritance.

Maybe it’s walking away from oceans that ask me to drown politely.

29!

This morning started with kring-kring pay-slip notification E-mail that brighten my day, as always.

Years ago in Bandung, I wondered when would I be on this stage.

Today, here I am, though it took my blood, sweat, and tears to be here.

Through so many, "maaf ya, aku ngeluh terus" and "kalau bukan ke aku, emang bisa ngeluh ke siapa lagi?", that made me believe I always have a shoulder to cry on.