Reflection

The end of the year is coming!
No, it's not a happy thing though.

It is like the finish line of a marathon, the time for us to move into another pavement. 
And start to walk again and again.
We declared such a revolution every year, and we forget what we would do in the middle of the year.
Not that surprising.
People forget.
Human being.

Hence, i remember the only one thing i whisper to God at the beginning of this year.
I whisper, God, lemme feel what  love is, once again. 
Since the last one left me behind years back, without any rational reasons, i was so numb.
I was so blind and i felt so heartless.

But it was so surprising also, that i found myself so happy and glad hearing the news that that my last one got married! I smiled and sincerely felt happy for them both, the bride and the groom. Love was in the air.
Then i was back to my routine, isolated myself in my own thoughts, being introvert and talked a little. Read so many books, and listen to the songs common people dislike (but well, i love that quirky songs, so what?). And so on.
Like a wallflower always do.

The year 2013 was so amazing for me.
So many things happened. 
I haven't forgot my own revolution.
It has happened, undirectly.
Tears, laughter, love and tragedies.
Life is never flat, it really is true.
My heart got bled, and Thank God, i still can stand stall. And smile. I never imagined my life would be like this. I knew, coincidence is nonsense. It is Your way, Your mysterious way, God.
So i keep my heart so tight and praise for You. In silence.
I restocked my faith in you, that in Your way, everything is possible.
Like, the awakening of feelings.
A kind heart with a soft smile entered my life. It was not an easy way for us, though.
Once again, love, tears, tragedies, griefs, and laughter taught me that life is such a beautiful thing to be grateful for. I thank God.

For the one i love and has been giving me a huge bunch of love, i really thank you for objectifying my revolution of this year. I do hope the best for us. Thank you for always cheering me up when i was breakdown for nothing or for a thing, or two, and always reminding me about gratitude. I love you, Honey.

For my family, for sharing me everything, for giving me best moments for my life. To be the center of life and love. You know, i am nothing without you. For my Mom and Dad, thank you for the prays and advices for my better future, thank you for being my parents, for taking care of me. And my brother, my partner in crime, thank you for being more than a bro. Brotherhood we are ( i know i am not a bro, but for my bro, apa sih yang nggak? :p).

For my friends, the besties, thank your for always listening me! Thank you, thank you and thank you. Thank you for showing me the better way and the great advices too. Guys, you rock!

It is not a year end speech, btw, i just spread what's on my mind. It is a therapy for me. People say, time's healing almost everything. But for me, writing's healing almost everything.
Including mad mood (YES, it is worse worse worse than bad mood), and indescribable blue feelings. 

This is the reflection of my 2013, what's yours? 

Hug

I woke up feeling vulnerable this morning. I needed dozens of happiness hormones, yet, i got my period by this morning. I felt like a baby, easy to cry.
So i read some articles on my fav web, psychologytoday, and tried to lift my mood up.
Yet, i was listening to Coldplay's (yes, masochist detected, blame on me), and my mood was even worse.

I had a chat with him. We both were busy finishing our work. He was with his Tempel, i was with Temon. But still, we thought we need to chat up XD
Besides, we (read: me), had a troubled mind last night, and wanted everything to be clear as soon as possible. The way we solved our problem: communication.

I was lying on my bed, then cross-legged in front of my Celine, doing stuffs, then lying down on the floor and got my cough even worse XD

I really  was insecure today. I felt vulnerable. I felt the tendencies around the corner. These late days, i thought. And this morning i told him all that i felt lately. Yeah i knew, it was hard to talk with troubled mind like mine. I was just ... having my mind out of my soul. What was that? I don't know. I felt i was bad, i couldn't do the best, i was not good, i was not smart, i was shallow. Don't let me shed my tears again. 

I think i need to be hugged. 
I feel everything will be okay when someone hugs me. I am searching on psychologytoday about a hug, and it comes to a conclusion that:

Hugging is a physical acknowledgment of the presence of another with the intention of expressing affection. Sometimes hugging is meant to also express reunion after separation and in that case it represents "affection beyond words."

Hugging is beyond the words. Can't agree more. When i feel like i can tell what's on my mind, i do hug him. A simple hug, and he seems like he suddenly understands what's on my mind. And he whispers "everything's gonna be okay". Am i that vulnerable? Yes.

So while hugging ostensibly increases oxytocin and trust by decreasing activation of the brains "fear" center, the "amygdala", I am curious about the effects of hugging when it is less artful or authentic. I suspect that the amygdala will be less content to recline in a proverbial hammock and more likely to stand on guard until some genuine emotion comes through
 
I often keep the problems inside my own head. I don't want to tell the world. Not because i am so strong that i can solve my problems all by myself. I just ... i'm a non-believer. Pardon my french, but if you have been on my shoes, you'll understand why, you'll understand how hard to be myself.
No, i'm not Scarlett O'Hara or Virginia Woolf, or Nawaal El-Shadawy. I'm not that complicated.

When i feel i have no ability to share my pain, my problems, i just need a hug. Somehow, it feels like i'm not alone while i am hugged. It feels like someone hugging me really want to cure my pain without knowing what's my problems are. Ironic. 

No hug is wasted and useless. Even, the teary hugs. Have i ever experienced that hug? Yes. Being hugged while my eyes can't stop producing tears and my nose can't stop producing ingus (ingus, Masha Allah! XD). He hugged and rubbed my back. I was too tired that time. Working from morning to night, having no significant time to take a rest, and having no proper sleep at late night. Yet, while i was taking a rest, my brain couldn't stop thinking of anything. How hard to be a Virgo, ya :)))

 After all, i wondered, is there anybody out there who doesn't like being hugged?
 Uhuk ... uhuk ... uhuk ...
 I guess, hug is the most intimacy of an interaction. But, telling my secrets, just telling, was the mostest intimacy of all. So, yeah. You know now? May i ask, don't you know me? Don't you know me by now?
I am vulnerable, hard to speak, yet i dislike to hurt others (because hate is a strong word and i rarely use it). 

But he is here, telling me he loves me just the way i am. What if i had split personality Dear? You said i have none but the real Inda Nur Handayani. 
I am relieved, and he shud know, i was trying (hard) to always tell him what's on my mind. No matter how hurt it can be. Because, yeah. You know why :)

Stay here and be my aspirin and xanax, dear you.
Happy Sunday, mortals :)

On The Night Like This

Do you know the story of a couple of socks? Well, let me tell you the whole story of last night, when the tasks of my job are extremely need to be done in 12 hours after Maghrib time.

Last night, office buddies and i, did overtime in office. Need to do the tasks for this morning, the report, Lapantara of RDTRK Perkotaan Temon, needs to be sent to Wates as soon as possible. So, yeah. Tsk. Haven't got my eyes closed from yesterday after sahur. YES, YESTERDAY AFTER SAHUR. It was about 27 hours.

Last night, the AC was on in its higher degree of celcius. Me was about ... damn, i'm freezed! I wore the two layers of clothes, and jeans. Besides, i covered myself with my medium thick brown coat (read: semi-jacket). I sat down straight far from the air condition.

I was typing on my Celine when he suddenly sat down next to me, and started to lay his head down. In seconds, i didn't give him much attention, just touched his arm and smiled. In minutes, i heard him snored. He was extremely tired after all. I knew that, so i let him sleep for a while. His snoring was a bit louder time by time, me was ... KYAAA XD XD XD

HAHAHA. But then he woke up and moved to a better corner and ... SLEPT AGAIN. And i continued my work.

At 12.30 p.m, i felt so tired. Besides, i had no many things to do but waiting for the revision of my head office. So, i decided to take a rest for a moment. I sat down near him, on a red chair, straight in front of the air condition. I was a bit dizzy. I tried to sleep but it was quite to do in the cold room and still had many things to think. I bend my body to avoid the coldness. I wore his jacket also. So, i covered myself with two layers of jackets. Still, i couldn;t sleep. I just lied my head down and vaguely heard of his snoring. I smiled and thought how cute his face was. His long hair, his chubby cheek, and his half-opened mouth. He looked like a baby :)

I fell asleep for a minutes. I woke him up, just to ask him to keep his head at the distance of the trash bin near his sleeping corner. But then he really woke up. I tighten my body, the room got colder. I saw the clock. It showed me 1.30 a.m. I sat down at that red chair for almost an hour. In my semi-conscious (y'know, it was really cold. Or it was just my body that wasn't so fit), i felt something warm in my naked feet. He covered my naked feet with sajadah. I opened my eyes and i really woke up.
"Cold?" he asked. I showed him my nod.
Then he handed me his shoes.
"It's big, can't suit to my feet," i replied.
"Not the shoes, but the socks. Covered your feet."
I wore his socks.

3.00 am. We went out for sahur. We rode motorcycles and i hitchhiked him. I touched his feet, his hands and ... OMG, they were so cold!
"Your socks..."
"No problem, stay wearing them," he said.
He kept the motorcycle going.

The sock. Who knows, that the socks can touch my heart? After all, i know it's his kind heart. But from a couple of socks? Dear God, thank you for sending him to me.
I really want to sing him a song. A song from Mocca, On The Night Like This.

On the night like this, there's so many things i wanna tell you
On the night like this, there's so many things i wanna show you
Cause when you're around, i feel safe and warm
Cause when you're around, i can fall in love everyday...

In the case like this
There are a thousand good reasons
I want you to stay...

I love you, Dear :)

Happy Engaged, My Friend!

I opened my whatsapp's contacts this morning, around 8 o'clock while the sun shone so bright. I found a picture, profile picture of my ex-boyfriend with his current beautiful girlfriend. Their fingers were lifted, shown a pair of rings encircled their ring-fingers. For any seconds, i was about to be silent. And then i smiled.

He was finally engaged.

My ex-bf i used to call my virgo has finally taken-up. No, i wasn't sad. If my eyes got teary, it must been a drip of happiness in my eyelid. I really was happy for him.  A thought flashily came and infiltrated my head and heart. I was relieved that the shadow that has been haunting me for years finally diminished. The shadow i called false hope. The hope that we, someday, could meet in a better moment finally evaporated.

For the first time after he left me behind, i laughed out loud.
That the thing i was scared of was only a shadow of one of my false hope. I couldn't avoid one thing, he was part of my life. Yeah, it was true. He once loved me. He doesn't.

Happy engaged, the dark knight rider!
Don't make your beloved fiancee get worried about your habit. Yeah, your habit of turning-off all of your gadgets and riding your motorcycle in maximum speed. I really wish that God will grant all of your wishes and hopes. Thank you for being a part of me. We always know, we both know that in the end, there must be an exit line. And you draw it first. I do after you.

Here, i been happy with my life. My current life. :)

Entwined hands like an almost prayer. - @ftkf (source by google)

Waiting For The Sun To Rise

Today, after getting a lovely good morning, i went upstairs to the third floor, the common place for me to share my thoughts to the universe. I had a mission, last three days before today, i have lost for sunrise moments. So, last night i have planned to catch the sun as usual.

I did await in the corner, near the roof tile of the second floor, and stared at the eastern sky. The sky looked so blue, grey and a bit overcast. There was also a few rays of orange lines. I looked for the source of the lines, the spot that accumulated the rays. I found a tiny spot, hid behind the clouds, and highly colored orange. Was it that?

Was it the sun?

I asked  none, why does the sun look so shy today?
Isn't it my first day after those three days i catch the sun back?
Why doesn't it show me its best off?

The kind of cut the shit girl, hell yeah, me.
I counted until 10, and didn't find the real sunrise. Okay, for me, sunrise is a moment when the dark sky slowly and vaguely becomes grey and blue, with the orange emissions and the cumulus, and the cold nuance.

But the sun gradually peek from behind the sky, slowly and looked so unsure.
I was about mesmerizing to see the shy sun, like it smiled at me and said, "hello, dear, good morning."
I fell in love again and again with the same beautiful thing.
I felt blessed.

The moment until my best youngster, Leily, suddenly came to my sacred place to... season her washed clothes.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Waiting the sun to rise. You always know my daily custom, why should you ask me over and over again?"
"Because the sky looks so gloomy today. And you, here, waiting for the sun to shines like a diamond. This is weird, waiting to the sun to rise in the cloudy 6 o'clock morning."
"As weird as me." *smile*
"Okay, as weird as always. Okay sista, let's go downstairs!"

I smiled once again to the eastern sky and whispered to the wind:
"Thank you for this beautiful morning. I love you."

*inspired by the shy sun this morning

Abandonment

Have you ever seen a scar stick on your fairy skin after getting wounded? Or, have you ever seen a line of drying tears in your fine cheek? Even, the sketch of water that trapped in a cavity after the rain has ceased? 

Nothing remains. But abandonment.

If the visible things would leave a remnant, how about the deep intimate feelings? The invisible untouched things that easily infiltrate your heart, either your head. No, you're not shielded. Neither weapon can prevent your very precious happiness inside your body and soul.
It is like a washed shore, touched by the tidal wave. It is just human being.

Some say, go move on! But some say, move on is the new forgetting. Pardon me, how could you forget the scar if the scar does always exist? No, you can't. You really are helpless about yourself. Sasuke said, 'you are weak because you are lack of hatred'. Valid? Far from true.
I used to be weak. Or i guess i used to be weak. The abandonment that haunting me about the past really scares me off. It is like i continuously am mopping my scattered heart time by time, no limitation. No limitation means so much more scary than the current scariest thing. I hate it. I hate the word 'forever' since the 'goodbye' word did exist. Like when they're placed together in a row. You got a goodbye word from the one you love and you have to live alone forever. Forever alone. Forever a goodbye moment. Forever is sick.

But forever doesn't exist. Nothing lasts forever. But the abandonment.
Abandonment does last forever.

It is like when i am well asked by other do i love him/her, and i said yes, it means i should've loved his/her entire life. His/her entire life including his/her past. Not to be mentioned, actually. This is an unbreakable-rule. So, what remains?

The tears may cover your wounded heart, and this could be the perks of your upcoming hopes. but even the wound has been cured, the passive scar will come along, and stay as a reminder that you have had the reality in the past. I do think that brainchild. Pardon my shallowness, pardong my de-motivational words. This is just reality people avoid to believe.

Love can die. Love can stay. Anyhow, which one whichever occurs, will always form a remnant. Do face it, embrace it, live it. Remember you still have tomorrow, remember you still owe today. Make your current today become an unforgettable tomorrow, in bad or good way. Because there's no bad or good things. We can always change it. We can always use our different perspective. Love your life, because your life will be others' abandonment. You're special.

*this is not psychological article, this is just a dummy thought of mine

It's Supposed To Be Ours

I will write it like nobody will read it. It is like a space nobody can see, but you can feel. The words whisper your heart, through your redemption of your pledge. I will never ask you question. Not for the tears and laughter of ours. Maybe it is just me and my egoistic life idealism.

You can always leave. It means you can always come because the door is always open. You can always stand in between too, like fall silent in the border line of outter or inner. You can always do what you want to do. 

And i can always see how glued i can be.

Have you ever seen your own self? You don't have to ask me. Don't ask me question, and i shall tell you no lies. For the smiling mask i used to wear, i want my true skin to touch the wind now. It is merely like i want people to give me a bit attention. Call me an attention whore if you heartless. 

I am just helpless.

I can stand for the pain any longer time. I can easily give up to the things that have no certainty to happen. It is just me and all of my sides. I have no authorization to blame on others. That is why, why i tend to be asocial. Like a flake of the rain, she falls down alone, she melts and absorbed to the earth, alone. I can't be that mean. I am not anybody's meant to be. This is what i think.

They say i am into dramatic. Quickly go upstairs just to catch a sunrise, or silently await the sun to set at 6 o'clock on the third floor. I said it is a normal me. I said me is that different. I said maybe this was the normal of the world, and they who said and judged me are just abnormal. But i like it when people say, "gila kamu, Nda!" 
It was like those words are supposed to be a praise to me. Because i tend to like what people used to ignore. I like to see the water, the deeper of the waving surface of the water in a tub. I like how my hands can easily disturb and crush its calmness. I like how i can feel the different coolness level between water and air, and a slight skin that hang in between...

...and i can easily being pissed off too.

Is it a normal me? Sometimes i think i am a bipolar disorder person. But then i think it's okay, i still can count how the number of when i got angry to others. It was not that substantial. 

But the tear is uncountable. And i still think that it is the normal me. But i am still clueless about who i am. What i deserve, what i want, what i would have, how far i can go, how long i would live.

So, it is supposed to be my story, not ours. Look how suck my mind from being distracted and ego-centric! This is supposed to be ours. But it ends up with only me.
Are you okay?
Because... i am... no don't ask me.
I shall tell you no lies.

*inspired by @ftkf

Februari dan Berhentinya Detak Sebuah Janji (4)

Keesokan paginya, sebuah surat mendarat di meja kasirku. Pukul sembilan pada tanggal dua puluh enam. Aku mual membaca nama pengirimnya. Dondi Himawan. Ini tidak beres. Pelan-pelan kubuka isinya:

Dear Cici Runia,

Terima kasih telah mengajarkan aku sedikit kehidupan yang tertinggal secara kasat mata. Sudah lama aku hidup dalam hingar bingar hedonisme hingga melupakan detil kecil seperti laut dan gunung. Dongeng indah Cici tentang garis cakrawala dan sentuhan gunung dan langit membuatku bergairah lagi memperhatikan detil-detil kecil dalam kehidupan

Cici, maafkan aku kalau aku sudah menyakiti perasaan Cici, tapi ciuman di pantai beberapa hari yang lalu adalah ketulusan yang secara mendadak menyeruak dari kepalaku. Aku memang ingin mencium Cici, satu-satunya orang yang mengajariku bagaimana menghargai kehidupan.

Tadinya aku pikir kehidupan adalah tentang kelahiran, pertemuan, kemudian perpisahan. Tapi Cici mengajariku bagaimana kesederhanaan adalah bagian dari kehidupan. Sejak hari itu, aku sering memikirkan Cici.

Cici yang tidak pernah mengenal dunia. Cici yang selalu memberi senyuman pada setiap orang. Cici yang mengajariku bagaimana berbagi dengan sesama. Cici yang membuatku menghargai ciptaanNya. Cici yang membuatku belajar. Cici yang membuatku jatuh cinta.

Sulit bagiku untuk melihat semua itu dengan kedua orang tua yang sudah berpisah. Mama di Jogja, Papa di Jakarta dengan istri barunya. Aku terbiasa hidup dengan mengutuk pertemuan. Tapi pertemuan dengan Cici membuka kembali mata yang lama tertutup tirani. Bersyukur karena telah mengalami, bukan mengutuk karena ditinggal pergi.

Cici membuat aku berterimakasih, karena setidaknya aku tahu Papa pernah sayang padaku dan Mama. Maafkan aku yang lancang ini Ci, Cici boleh marah. Tapi jatuh cinta ini memang tidak perlu ditangkap olehmu. Aku jatuh cinta dengan perasaanku, bukan dengan perasaan Cici. Cici yang tidak membalas cintaku tetap membuatku jatuh cinta. Cici yang apa adanya, yang menghargai hidup dengan kesederhanaan.

Boleh aku masuk ke dunia Cici?

Dondi

Oh Dondi. Sekarang aku nggak tahu harus bilang apa. Aku harus bagaimana? Aku menghela nafas panjang. Menjelang kematianku, kenapa harus ada persoalan-persoalan rumit seperti ini? Aku merasa mengkhianati Alena dengan surat Dondi barusan.

Sepasang Nenek dan Kakek langganan datang lagi kali ini. Seperti biasa, mereka memesan teh ginseng dan teh sereh. Setelah membuatkan pesanan mereka, aku kembali melamun di meja kasir dengan surat yang masih kupegang, entah akan kuapakan.

“Cici, kenapa melamun terus? Murung sekali mukamu hari ini?” tanya Nenek.

“Saya nggak kenapa-napa kok Nek.”

“Mukamu ndak bisa berbohong. Sini duduk di sebelah Nenek, Nenek pengen dengar ceritamu,” tawar Nenek. Aku menurutinya, duduk di semeja dengan Nenek dan Kakek.

“Sudah lama Kakek ndak ketemu sama cucu Kakek. Pasti sekarang sudah sebesar kamu, Ci,” ujar Kakek sabar.

“Nenek, Kakek, ada sesuatu yang sedang saya pikirkan, sebenarnya,” aku membuka suara. Dan cerita mengenai Dondi dan suratnya mengalir dengan tenang melewati celah telinga Nenek dan Kakek. Usai mendengar ceritaku, mereka berdua tersenyum dan tertawa pelan.

“Nenek, Kakek, apanya yang lucu?” tanyaku.

“Ceritamu. Aneh sekali kamu, ada orang yang mencintaimu kok malah sedih,” Nenek.

“Nek, lihat Nek, siapa yang jatuh cinta pada saya. Ini Dondi, Nenek,” kilahku.

“Coba Nenek tanya, siapa yang tidak jatuh cinta pada gadis baik dan cantik seperti kamu? Maksud Nenek, berapa persen dari keseluruhan wanita di dunia ini yang memiliki hati dan raga secantik kamu? Kemurahan hati, keramahan, kesetiaan, kesederhanaan. Apalagi kebaikan hidup yang tidak kamu punya, Cici?” jelas Nenek. Aku tidak akan punya umur panjang, Nek. Aku melipat surat dari Dondi dan menyelipkannya di saku rok terusanku.

“Sebaiknya Alena jangan sampai tahu,” ujarku.

“Bukan salah kamu Dondi jatuh cinta padamu. Cinta tidak bisa memilih, cinta Dondi yang milik Dondi, kamu ndak berhak membelokkannya. Masa iya kamu tega membelokkan perasaan orang?” timpal Kakek.

“Terus saya harus gimana, Nek, Kek?”

“Bersikaplah baik pada Dondi, seperti kamu bersikap baik sama Nenek dan Kakek. Keutamaan orang ada pada sikap dan akhlaknya antar sesama. Kamu ndak berhak marah sama dia karena dia jatuh cinta sama kamu.” Nenek.

“Dan berbahagialah, hidupmu telah membuat orang lain bahagia. Orang lain seperti Dondi, Nenek, dan Kakek,” kali ini Kakek yang tersenyum.

Februari dan Berhentinya Detak Sebuah Janji (3)

*

Aku teringat-ingat perkataan Dondi. Aku mahir bercerita. Tapi apa yang akan aku ceritakan pada Alena? Tentang ajakanku ke Dondi ke pantai? Bukan itu maksudku. Aku ingin Dondi menemui jalan untuk menyampaikan rasa cintanya pada Alena. Tapi kenapa malah aku harus menyembunyikan cerita dari Alena?

“Ci, kenapa sikap Dondi ke aku berubah ya?” cerita Cici suatu waktu. Sejak malam itu, aku dan Alena sering tidur bersama dalam satu ranjang. Kami melakukan ritual kakak-adik dengan hangat. Berdoa bersama, bercerita tentang cinta, kadang menggelitiki satu sama lainnya.

“Apa mungkin ada perempuan lain yang Dondi sukai selain aku ya?” tanyanya lagi.

Aku teringat dengan sebuah amplop cokelat berukuran sedang yang dikirimkan melalui paket pos, yang berisi foto-foto senja dan gunung. Aku tidak mau menebak siapa pengirim paket misterius tak bernama ini. Hanya ada sebuah kesimpulan: jelas ini Dondi. Aku tidak mau ini berasal dari Dondi.

“Alena, kamu gadis yang cantik, pasti ada banyak orang yang mengejar-ngejar kamu. Jangan kamu pikirkan Dondi terus.”

Alena menatapku dengan sayu. Aku jadi semakin bersalah padanya.

“Begini Alena, anggaplah dibalik sebuah tembok ada Rahasia Indah yang hanya bisa kamu temui setelah melewati tiga pintu yang terkunci. Kamu hanya punya satu kunci, jadi kamu harus menemui pintu yang pas dengan kunci kamu untuk bisa melewati tembok ini dan bertemu dengan Rahasia Indah. Kamu mencoba pada satu pintu yang bernama Dondi, dan ternyata kunci yang kamu punya tidak pas.”

“Kalo kamu terus saja memaksakan kuncimu pada Pintu Dondi, jelas usahamu hanya akan sia-sia, tapi kalo kamu mencoba kunci itu pada dua pintu yang lain, niscaya akan ada satu yang paling cocok dengan kuncimu,” lanjutku.

“Jadi, apa Rahasia Indah itu, Ci?” tanya Alena.

“Cinta.”

Alena tersenyum.

“Cici baru saja mendongengi aku tentang cinta. Cinta adalah Rahasia Indah?” tanya Alena dengan manja.

Aku mendongengi dua orang yang dimabuk cinta dengan cerita yang berbeda, dan aku membuat cinta diantara mereka memudar begitu saja. Tuhan, maafkan aku yang maha merusak segalanya ini. Maafkan Cicimu ini Alena. Cicilah yang membuat Dondi menjadi pintu yang salah untukmu.

Kupeluk Alena kuat-kuat, menghirup aroma rambut Alena. Aku yang sekarat masih saja berbuat dosa. Semoga kelak Tuhan mengampuni semua dosaku.

Aku mahir bercerita.

Dan berbohong.

*

“Cici, aku berangkat kuliah dulu ya! Jangan lupa mengambil bakpao di Koh Siang ya, sama bayarin pulsa aku sekalian ya,” Alena menyelampirkan tasnya dan berjalan cepat ke arah satu-satunya motor yang kami punya.

“Hati-hati, Alena,” pesanku.

Pagi ini aku berjalan-jalan mengitari Ketandan, dan mampir di toko bunga Bapak Rejeki. Iseng-iseng aku membeli bunga mawar dalam pot, beberapa tangkai mawar merah dan bunga sedap malam. Mawar dalam pot itu sudah aku tata di teras depan, dekat dengan pintu masuk kafe. Tangkai-tangkai mawar merah dan sedap malam ini sedang aku tata pada vas keramik meliuk yang tinggi memanjang dengan gambar perahu dan beberapa pelaut. Aju jadi ingat dengan lambang jangkar yang ada di hampir semua rumah di Ketandan tempat aku tinggal ini. Kampung Ketandan, kampung Pecinan.

“Aha, mawar dan sedap malam!” Koh Siang masuk ke toko kami.

“Selamat siang Koh, baru saja saya mau ke rumah Kokoh buat ambil bakpao, malah Kokoh udah kesini duluan,” jawabku.

“Sekalian mampir, mau ke pasar juga soalnya. Ini bakpao kacang hijau dan daging ayam pesananmu, Ci.” Koh Siang meletakkan senampan penuh bakpao yang masih mengebul. Segera aku terima dan aku gantikan wadahnya ke dalam panci stainless yang sekaligus pemanas, agar bakpao-bakpao itu tidak kedinginan.

“Nampannya titip sini dulu saja ya Ci, malas bawa-bawa nampan ke pasar,” pesan Koh Siang.

“Baik Koh, saya simpankan dulu. Uhuk... uhuk... uhuk... uhuk!” tiba-tiba dadaku sakit dan nyeri bukan main. Rasanya susah sekali bernafas, susah mengeluarkan nafas juga. Reflek aku berpegangan pada vas bunga dengan rangkaian setengah jadi itu. Tak kuat rupanya menahan berat tubuhku, vas itu ambruk, menggelinding di atas meja kasir.

Tapi Koh Siang segera menangkap vas itu, dan menggamit lenganku.

“Cici, kamu ndak papa?” tanya Koh Siang khawatir. Aku hanya menggeleng, masih berusaha mencari-cari oksigen diantara nitrogen-nitrogen yang memabukkanku siang ini. Sakit sekali rasanya. Aku menutup mataku, barangkali ini saatnya aku akan mati.

Tanganku yang bebas meraba-raba laci paling bawah dari meja kasir ini, mencari tablet-tablet pengusir rasa sakit ini sambil mengingat-ingat, apakah pagi tadi aku sudah minum obat.

“Cici, aku ambilkan air putih dulu!” Koh Siang beranjak menuju bar kayu sederhana dan menuangkan segelas air putih untukku. Aku buka penutup obatku, dan menumpahkan isinya di atas meja. Tanganku bergetar hebat, antara menahan nyeri dan sakitnya dadaku, dan menahan tubuhku agar tidak limbung. Kanker paru-paru stadium tiga, otakku menyerukan kalimat itu berulang-ulang.

Darah segar menyeruak diantara batuk-batukku, tertahan di tanganku.

“Ini Ci, diminum dulu,” Koh Siang menyodorkan segelas air putih. Kuambil sebutir tablet berwarna merah muda itu, dan segera meminumnya.

Koh Siang hening di depanku. Aku juga terdiam.

Masih kaget dengan apa yang terjadi, aku mengumpulkan waktu untuk menyembuhkanku. Lima menit. Sepuluh menit.

“Cici sudah baikan?” tanya Koh Siang. Aku menerawang, kemudian fokus memandang wajah Koh Siang.

“Tolong jangan beritahukan hal ini kepada Alena, Koh,” ujarku masih bergetar. Sisa-sinya nyeri itu tidak mau hengkang dari dadaku rupanya. Tapi hidungku sudah mau menangkap oksigen seperti yang dimaui tubuhku.

Koh Siang terdiam di tempatnya berdiri. Aku memandang wajahnya nanar.

“Batuk Cici berdarah... Cici TBC?” tanya Koh Siang. Aku menggeleng pelan.

Airmataku perlahan mengalir. Di depan Koh Siang aku memohon agar rahasia ini tidak bocor kemana-mana.

“Barusan yang saya minum obat kanker, Koh,” Koh Siang terkesiap mendengar jawabanku.

“Ya Tuhan... Cici harus segera berobat ke dokter!” dorong Koh Siang. Aku menggeleng.

“Nggak Koh! Kokoh, saya mohon, ini hanya antara saya dan Kokoh,” aku memegang tangannya. Koh Siang sekali lagi tertegun, dan menatapku dengan pandangan yang tidak bisa aku artikan.

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