private museum for one

In the next life,

aku menginjak umur 20-an dengan penuh kesedihan, segala hal yang aku lakukan salah, padahal terasa benar.

aku ingin sekali melakukan banyak hal dengan "segera"

segala hal kulakukan bak menandai ceklis dalam kehidupan

aku lupa satu hal yang tidak kalah penting..

menikmati

menikmati pemandangan di dalam bis arah pulang

menikmati euforia masa muda

menikmat kesendirian

menikmati keramaian

aku hanya melalui semuanya dan berusaha bernafas di tengah-tengah kehidupan

sekarang, aku akan meninggalkan era ini, menuju umurku dengan angka awal yang baru

kepada jiwa muda,

jangan lupa untuk menikmati.

di tengah cepatnya kereta yang berjalan,

ada pemandangan yang bisa dilihat di kanan kiri jalan.

bahkan stasiun yang menawarkan petualangan unik.

I cut my hair, very short this time. But like, what's new right?

I feel like this is just another self sabotage episode. But I feel like I hit the wall okay.

I did something small today. but still feel big enough for me.

ia hilang di bulan ketiga. tunggu, bukan hilang. ia kembali ke surga.

saat aku kecil, aku berkata "sayangnya kamu tidak di sini."

sekarang aku berpikir, "lucky you."

ketika manusia meninggalkan bumi ini, konon ia juga melepaskan hal-hal keduniawian.

lantas aku berpikir, apakah kelak aku bisa melepaskan cintaku, sayangku, atau kasihku untuk suamiku atau anak-anakku?

kelak, ketika di alam sana, aku bisa bertemu dengan mereka lagi namun tanpa rasa cinta yang sama karena aku telah melepaskan rasa cinta yang duniawi itu?

siapkah aku apabila nantinya aku menghembuskan nafas terakhir itu aku juga melepaskan rasa cintaku?

walaupun konon, manusia tidak lagi akan merasa hampa, melainkan penuh bukan main.

walaupun ada air sungai rasa susu, apakah nantinya ketika kita bertemu dan bermain sudah tidak ada rasa cinta lagi?

atau ketika pelangi di sekitar kita, dengan padang rumput yang luas, apakah kita tidak akan mengenali satu sama lain lagi?

atau ya, kita saling mengenal, tapi tidak ada lagi rasa yang muncul - hanya penuh.

mungkin aku tidak datang dari masa depan

memberikan seribu petuah untung kamu hidup yang baik

tapi mungkin kita saling muncul di mimpi masing-masing

memberikan petunjuk kecil

atau mungkin alam memberikan sekelebat tanda

dan dibantu semesta karena doa yang aku dan kamu panjatkan setiap malam

sekian lama rasanya merindu terhadap tak tahu apa itu

sehingga ketika bertemu rasanya familiar bukan main

rasanya seperti menemui buku yang pernah kamu lihat sinopsisnya di perpustakaan sekolah dulu

atau bahkan seperti merasakan lagi rasa makanan yang kamu pernah coba di pesta saat kamu kecil

tatapan mata membuat sinyal kita menjadi terkoneksi karena petunjuk-petunjuk kecil itu

waktu sudah menjalankan bagiannya, sehingga memori-memori dan rasa-rasa itu terhubung dan bertaut membentuk suatu pemahaman yang begitu cepat akan siapa kamu dan siapa aku

aku jelas bukan seperti Sore, yang memberikan kamu keindahan dalam sela waktu tiga puluh menit lalu hilang dan berubah gelap

mungkin aku seperti Pagi, yang kamu nanti di penghujung gelapnya malam, dimana aku menghapus segala bulan dan bintang serta gelapnya langit dengan pancaran mentari dan awan-awan lembut menghembuskan embun di jendela kamu

I don't know what will happen once I turn 29. I still feel like I'm a 23-year-old, somehow. A bit wiser, maybe - from losing all the innocence. But other than that, I am as clueless as ever.

I once said, "Maybe one day this would not hurt so bad to look again."

This is the one day. It somehow does not hurt me. It somehow does not eat me alive. It hurts, but only from the memories. It cannot reach me in the present day.

I should be grateful, I know. But something just does not click. Because why am I still crying?

I have a lot of things living for free in my head. Words that I wished I could say, the pain I wish I could let you know. But yea, I can't.

Better in time, they said.

Maybe I am grieving my youth that might die from this?

Maybe I am grieving over the lost opportunities from being young?

Or is this he deep sadness that is just wanting to come up and say hello?

untuk dapat memahami, maka perlu membaca

namun dengan kata-kata ini, apalah yang bisa dibaca. hanya barisan kata-kata yang menceritakan hal-hal aneh yang terjadi. namun kemudian, aku rangkai jadi cerita lucu untuk kelak kenang-kenangan di masa yang akan datang.

jika tua nanti, aku akan membaca mengingat kembali mengapa hal itu tertulis. bukan kata-kata. namun, perasaan dan kejadian di baliknya. apa yang kutuliskan terkadang bukanlah hal yang terlintas di benakku. mungkin saja ini semua perasaan dan kejadian yang telah aku enkripsi.

kadang jadi prosa. kadang jadi puisi. kadang jadi kata-kata saja.

atau mungkin kadang-kadang kamu harus mendengar, bukan saja membaca. di balik kalimatku, ada nyanyian atau lirihan yang aku sertakan dan menjadi serpihan di setiap hurufnya.

aku tidak puitis, tidak. aku hanya mampu bercerita, bukan dengan mulutku. namun dengan hatiku.

In my final days as a 28-year-old, I feel a lot of things. I'm under pressure, but I'm feeling okay. I have accepted some uncomfortable things and chose to just go with it, maybe one day it will be comfortable. Or, I will be okay if it is not uncomfortable and have the sense to just let it go and not blame anything.

I feel like I have given everything, but it would just be considered "enough". It does not feel like a great blessing, but instead it is just a bare minimum.

But I am okay with it, or at least I am trying to be.

the sound of deep house/electronic music, pool with lazy chairs, frozen margaritas, and beachside villa.

great bikini.

loved ones.

a freedom that i crave.

i was in the taxi, taking my daughter to school. as i read the news on an actress that killed herself due to the amount of stress and hatred she had to endure. she was 24.

and it triggered me, the time that i wished i was dead (when I was 15 years old). driven with deep dark sadness or an undiagnosed depression with zero self-respect and zero willingness to live.

i didn't do it. obviously. the universe weirdly saved me.

It hit me again—if I were dead, I could not do this—this life that I am doing right now: pursuing my dreams, building my family, kissing the love of my life every night, seeing the pink sunset skies on a clear sunny evening, eating world greatest nasi uduk, finding new interesting things, seeing a mini me, growing as a human. doing therapy.

i got better.

i am 11 years clean. the sharp edges do not scare me anymore. i can be trusted with sharp tools.

i am healing.

i apologize for being so hard on you. i am proud of you, and i love you.

i could let these thoughts fly out on behalf of my name

but instead, i hid myself behind this nameless blogs

i am a human, i did have suicidal thoughts at certain points in my life, or i did have anxiety, or heck, severe depression too.

but it would be too risky, right? very out of character

i am funny, i am a quiet person, i am chronically online, and i am a mother

it would be inappropriate for a mother to have a sad life or a humiliating past

which is funny, because it is how i got here -- with all the wounds and wisdom. i am here.

but that's okay, i will continue to hide and i will write still.

aku daring kronis. iya, aku bicara dengan bahasa yang banyak digemari di dunia daring. ya, mungkin kita bisa lewatkan bahasa skibbidi gyat. tapi, berapa poin aura yang bisa aku dapatkan ketika menulis ini dalam bahasa indonesia?

aku juga daring kronis. aku berbicara sendiri memang dengan dunia ini, di halaman ini. aku juga melihat tulisan orang-orang dengan segala permasalahan dan perasaan mereka. tidak berinteraksi, hanya menjadi pembaca selewatnya.

segala tulisan ini kubiarkan jadi bahan publik. hmm, tapi kamu tidak tahu 'kan, siapa aku ini sebenarnya?

ketika seseorang melihat aku, mengenalku sepenuhnya, dan bahkan memahami tubuhku, belum tentu mereka memahami tulisan-tulisan ini. topik tulisan ini bisa jadi bahan dari 10 tahun yang lalu dan baru bisa aku tuangkan sekarang. atau, tulisan ini merupakan gambaranku saja di kepala yang kemudian jadi untaian kata-kata.

aku bercerita entah untuk masa depan atau masa lalu atau dunia alternatif yang mungkin ada (menurutku, memang ada).

apa yang aku refleksikan dalam tulisan ini, hanyalah 10% dari aku sesungguhnya. sementara, aku secara fisik, adalah 40% dari aku sesungguhnya. aku tidak akan pernah penuh. kamu pun juga.

mungkin suatu hari nanti, kamu sudah lebih tinggi dan lebih berat. kamu juga sudah bisa membaca. pikiranmu mulai berpikir tentang hal-hal di dunia ini, sehingga semuanya terasa membingungan dan kamu kesepian...kamu bisa selalu bertanya ke ibu.

ibu juga dulu hanya anak kecil yang suka berpikir dan merasakan banyak hal...tapi badan ibu terlalu kecil untuk bisa mengolah semuanya dan otak ibu juga dahulu kala belum bertumbuh optimal.

segala hal itu, ibu bawa menjadi pertanyaaan. ibu jadi berteman dengan kesepian, angan-angan, serta pikiran. ibu juga banyak berpikir dengan konsep cinta kasih, karena dahulu ibu ada masa dimana berteman itu sulit sekali.

semuanya..ibu bawa ke dalam tulisan-tulisan. ada kalanya jadi puisi, ada kalanya jadi catatan singkat, atau narasi panjang. ibu sangat suka menulis, menulis juga gratis tidak perlu beli cat atau alat pewarna. cukup pensil dan buku kosong. kemudian lahir blog-blog canggih seperti ini...ibu pun banyak menulis.

tulisan ini bukan berarti ibu tidak bahagia. ibu sangat bahagia. hanya saja, bahagia itu mudah ibu rasakan dan ibu proses. sementara sedih, amarah, dan perasaan negatif lainnya, sulit ibu proses yang hasilnya memberatkan langkah ibu. ibu hanya mampu menjadikannya tulisan, merangkai menjadi sesuatu yang lebih indah di luar kepala ibu. kelak melalui tulisan, pikiran negatif itu bisa tumbuh bagai teratai yang tumbuh di lumpur.

tulisan ibu nampak sedih dan nampak merana, karena perasaan-perasaan itu yang ibu tidak mau simpan di dalam hati dan memori ibu. sehingga, harus ibu keluarkan. di sini. biar dia jadi tumpukan sampah di dunia maya ini.

kebahagiaan ibu? ibu simpan di rumah. sehingga jadi kamu, jadi paw, jadi kenangan manis dan masakan khas ibu.

kelak, apabila kamu kebingungan, sedih, dan marah, kamu bisa datang ke ibu. kita proses bersama. kita menulis bersama. atau menggambar dan mewarnai. apabila hanya butuh dipeluk dan duduk dalam hening juga tak apa. jangan lupa ucapkan terima kasih kepada perasaan negatif yang sudah muncul. karena tanpanya, kamu tidak akan bisa belajar tentang dirimu sendiri.

But I need to find a way to tell this story. The one about finding love, more love, and unlearning, then learning again to love someone. And this is about one person only. Not that because it is hard, but it is still going, and lots of improvements need to be made.

New love is always one thing that sparks people. Finding love when you haven't found one is easy to describe and fun to tell. It feels ecstatic and narcotic. Every touch is another level of high. Every kiss is addicting. Every move is relaxed and joyful. The more mess comes on it, the more amusing it is.

But what about love that is relatively old? Do you find love where you always put it? Well, yes. It's like finding keys in the drawer, as they should be, or finding a Tylenol in the medicine box. It feels mundane, but somehow, it brings a lot of comfort. It's like that thing is always there right where you need it. The kind of happiness that love brings is not ecstatic anymore. It's healing. The touch, the kiss, and the moves in between are curing. The more mess, the more it brings headaches where over-the-top sex is the best cure.

With this old love, you have to unlearn-learn how to love someone. For me, the past six years have definitely not been easy. You think that the love will always stay like that. But you both grew, your surroundings changed and then you were renewed. Then, the love must be somehow readjusted. The way you give love and the way you provide love may no longer be the same.

Love, in general, is easy, sure I agree. But loving, where you put two heads, two bodies, and two souls living together, is not always easy. It could be challenging. You always need to make sure you're both on the same page. And that requires you both to like the book and keep up with each other's pace. Well, in short, you just have to make it work.

Honestly, the miracle stops in the beginning. The rest is yours to work on—the date night, the conversation, the sex, the kiss, the touch—all of them require lots and lots of effort and time.

I'm not saying that it is all scary. If it scares you and you want to back off, you are not ready. You are ready when it scares you, and you still want to go on. This could be because you have your partner's trust, which plays a huge part in starting a long-lasting love anyway.

But somehow, in the midst of everything, the kindness and the purity of love stay the same. You could be mean to each other (of course). But the kindness stays the same when you get back to each other.

We were both surprised about walking this far, yet this was something we had expected in the beginning. Our love survived things I cannot put into words. I am in awe of our love. There are times when I am utterly scared. But with time, we got better at loving each other (hopefully).

I am not saying that my love or my marriage is perfect. I'm saying that I put a lot of effort into them, and one should never stop.

But in minor cases, we grieve the version of people we cannot experience.

it's weird to see that at some point, one person was or is at their best. but at other times, not so much. or they think they're not (although, they are just in an okay condition).

and yes, I cannot help but wonder -- am I the problem here? Am I turning everyone into spiraling moments where they have this feeling of being stuck? Or feeling inadequate? Do I give them so much burden? Well, am I a liability to them that weighed them enormously?

I am happy to see someone's past or future thrive. But I need to be there to experience their thrives or flourishes. Because I'm not there physically to feel the rush, you know, I'm watching from afar or having to peek through old scattering papers.

If I'm not the problem -- then am I the asshole for seeing this moment too close? Should I step back, though, just to see the bigger picture? And, like, come to a conclusion, whatever closure I needed?

I'm not chasing someone's best because I can't stand them at their worst. But I just want to feel their aura or vibe. Well, I hope they radiate goodness, though.

Maybe I just want kindness. Maybe it's nice to be treated properly. It could be nice to feel respected and loved deeply. Because I know when someone's at their worst, they have difficulty loving correctly. They are too busy surviving, climbing, and pleasing anyone else but you. It is because I've always been less significant—something that does not matter that much to them.