I really don’t know love at all

When Maggie at one time decided to go to Solo with her cousin, out of reasons I can’t yet to recall, something was wrong. It was stupid this thing I thought love. I used to buy her one and sometimes a bunch of chocolate bars just to show how much I like her smile and her company.

It was raining quite heavily and I can’t reached her or find her everywhere. I remember going to her house and venturing the whole university but found no clue whatsoever of her existence. And this cousin of hers was like a personal bodyguard. That when somebody, him too I can’t recall, was telling me about her possible whereabouts, I was angry and confused.

It was completely naive, that we’ve been dating for three to four months in an unofficial term, we knew we had each other. At least that’s how I remembered it. And through out the afternoon was torments, I remember got very angry at what happen, singing to a thrash song just to be able to scream.

What nobody understood was the fact that at that very night I went to Solo, which is a three hour ride by bus.

I was already broke it up with her a week later. We took a walk for the entire evening and at the end of the night she said that she loves me. I didn’t say anything, but she was a ghost for me the day after. And now, probably six years after that, she’s been officially dating that cousin, probably planning to make babies and got married in secrecy.

No, this is not about how man can be cold sometimes, or woman can be so stupidly obvious, this is about making a decision.

I dated quite many girls back in hey days, and each one was such a lovely creature. One of them was Hapsari, some one I know nothing about yet brought the most impact in my life. Falling in love at the first sight back in my first hour of college, she was a star to a turtle and a moon for the wolves.

It wasn’t soon before we finally know each other. And in a way I feel like my feelings for her grew like grasses in dump site, like nothing is strong enough to stop them. But at one point she disappeared, broke my heart in pieces, and I can never forgive her for that.

I saw her holding a guy’s waist coming out of the guy’s boarding house. She saw me and look away, that’s when I realize that the grasses had burned, to disappointment and disgust. She would try to stop me at certain occasions, and I would say hi and let go of my hand from her. And for months I would have this massive pimple problems resulted from severe sleep deprivation. The traces of the rain would dry, but I loved her more than everything in those days.

And Oppie, my beautiful Bataknese angel, whom I dated these couple of years, had apparently fallen for this guy she met at a recent trip to Malaysia. It’s a stupid joke now how Malaysia didn’t only claim our songs, our traditional dances and parts of our land, but it also claims my woman.

I remember the first movie we watched on our first date, the biggest burger I’ve eaten my whole life. I remember what she ordered and tried hard to finish, showing that she always finishes her meal –I learn in later days that she never finishes her meal.

I remember the green dress she wore on our second date, how I can’t stop staring at her, the sweet smell of her blue blouse on our third date to Dufan, our first kiss, our second kisses in my sister’s boarding house and the whole history of it, our New Years, our way of showing affections.

I remember how we used to talk until it was so late to go home, that I’d have to walk miles before finally entering different angkots to Depok from Senen, reaching my boarding house at about three o’clock in the morning to go to work four hours later to Senen. It was crazy but I guess that was the ideals of love in our older days.

I remember the park. But I guess all of these were way in the past when we’re talking about her feelings in the present. And the present is me, trying to squeeze her in within the bulk of my workload, meeting her at weekends and some nights to fill the blank, and her, missing the embrace of what appear to be a myth for me, her ideal imagery of love I can’t seem to provide.

I didn’t see it coming. Even when it lingers on, I was so stupid to notice it, and when it’s done, I guess it’s done, and should be unwind.

What happened was a testament of how love sometimes is the enemy, the wrong star to follow, the poison in heaven’s neck. That it didn’t exist to lead you to the happy ending, but to lose you somewhere in between.

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“Fears and dreams and ferry’s wheel,
the dizzy dancing wails that you feel,
as every fairy tail comes smooth,
I’ve looked at love that way.


But now it’s just another show,
and you leave them laughing when you go,
but if you can don’t let them know,
don’t give yourself away.


I look at love from both sides now,
from give and take,
but still somehow,
it is love’s illusion that I recall.
I really don’t know love.”