About

An ordinary girl who likes to daydream about anything. Have a lot of thoughts that often overwhelming. An amateur writer. Dreaming, imagining, loving so many things. Awkward and shy, don't mind that please 😁.

There he is, trying to picture her sitting there, smiling at him. Her eyes are teary but it's not sadness, rather, it's relieved. Perhaps, it's because she's no longer feeling the pain, no longer have to wake up and face the cruel world. And that's great. Or maybe, it's because she knew that he'd be fine, but though things will get better in the future, she left a huge hole in his life, and no matter how many times he came to the place where they spent so much time together, he can't stop regretting and blaming himself for her death.

I am waiting for my departure at the Starbucks. It's one more hour before the plane to Melbourne arrived. It's one more hour before I left Indonesia, maybe for a long time.

This airport is crowded as usual, some people are talking loudly about how exicted they are to finally visit their destination. Others are too busy discussing about business.

I, myself, never experienced the pleasure of being in the airport. Maybe because being here reminded me of being away from her, means that I have to live through months far away before I go home. But it also means that I'm coming back for her and she didn't want me to.

We're not talking for a month already, she gave me a cold shoulder after that night. And there's no guarantee that she will meet me when I came back later.

It always be this hard to leave because I don't like being away from her, though it's clear that there's nothing to keep me here anymore, her demeanour lately clearly tells that there's no more reason for me to stay here and going back home for her.

It's half an hour before I left, but suddenly a text pops up on my phone's screen.
'Are you leaving?'

Another message came in, 'I'm sorry.'

And another one, 'please don't be in love with someone else.'

The sender is the smiley cat emoji which I know damn well who. My heart is beating so fast, my fingers are stiff, and my eyes keep rereading every single words.

Then I call her, she answered.
"Ho-ho, what takes you so long to call me grumpy head?!"

I furrowed my forehead, "what does the texts mean?"

"What did I mean? The texts or the reason I sent those?"

"Both!"

"Choose one!"

"You said we'll never work when we never even tried."

"I said that?"

"Yes. A month ago, and a long time before that. This is not funny."

"Well, whoops." She lets out a giggle which makes me notice that she answered my questions lightly and not in a serious way. She is the type of woman who thinks hard before saying anything.

"Are you drunk?"

She laughs. "Bingo!"

I sigh. Now worried. "You can't be drunk."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a bad drinker."

"It doesn't matter. You're not here to stop me. You're going away anyway."

I stay silent for a minute or two. "What do you mean by sending the text?"

"Do you like a coward? Or a liar? Because I'm those. All these years, I'm a coward and a liar."

I let her speak.

"I'm a coward because I didn't say it when I missed you, and needed you to stay, and wanted you to be around. Instead, I said I don't. Don't miss you, don't need you to stay, don't want you to be around, that made me a liar."

They say drunk words are sober thoughts, they say the drunk mind speaks the sober heart and the honest one, they say if someone drunk texts you, it means they're thinking of you when they can barely think straight.

So I made up my mind.

"Cancel the flight tonight, please."