bitterpill

Everytime I start having second thought about us, I read this particular post you wrote, once upon a time ago, in your neglected blog :) This one...

Quoted from here:

So I met this girl, 5 months ago.

She has a lot of magic powers.

I know her before, we used to be so close, dangerously too close.

But I met her again. She is someone else. She knows where she belongs. She knows what she’s been doing. She found herself, and that self is brilliant. The most brilliant soul I’ve ever know. Took me a while to recognize her, but once I hear her cry, I knew it, instantly. I just knew. And made me wonder. How can a person possibly grew stronger but stay fragile inside. It’s so easy to fall for her.

Since that night, we spent days together. And nights. And hours. I couldn’t stay away from her, so there we are. Sleeping with our eyes open, overhearing her silent sigh, seeing her eyes wandering looking for something that wasn’t there.

She told me that her feeling could never be wrong. That is magic power number one, her instinct. When she feels she’s gonna fall apart, then soon or later she will. When she feels someone will abandon her, then soon or later someone will. I can’t imagine having a feeling like that, knowing something bad will happen (and there’s nothing you can do about it) before it happens. To me it’s like a curse. So, I couldn’t leave her.

I spent almost every day with her, listening to her ramblings. Seeing her dancing. Reading things she wrote. Watching her doing her graphic and photo editing stuff (If I ask her to teach me how, she would've said, "I can't teach. I'm just playing around, I never master anything. So I can't teach." Ha! For your golden information, lads, she's the only Creative Director I know below the age 28). Talking about important and unimportant things. Asking her inputs and comments about my works. Feel her arms holding me every time she accompanies me watching my movies. Trying to understand her doodles. Close the fridge door properly after she opens it, it occurs to any door -- bathroom door, bedroom -- she tends to open the door and leave it open, God knows why. Even just silly walking at nights after she picks me up at my office. If she’s not paying attention, I even enjoy watching her smoking her Marlboro then tell me some jokes and when we laugh, she’s slowly exhaling the smokes out of her lips. And she does have these eyes that can paralyze you in a second. I know she never meant to, it’s just the way she looks at you. She’s like trying to read the back of your head, remembering your memories, thinking your thoughts. And in a sudden she’s in it, in your head. That is magic power number two.

Every night I end my day with drowning my face in her shoulder, and there are nights where I can’t sleep at all. I can’t stop watching her in her sleep. No, she’s not being that beautiful girl at movies who sleep with soft make-up like a princess, she’s noot. She talks in her sleep. And sometimes making sweet soft purrs like her cats. And if she’s really tired, she can snore! Yeah she makes a lot of weird sounds. I have my silent nights too. If I kiss her neck when she sleeps, I can see her lips making a vague smile. I can't sleep before kissing her back, and she couldn't sleep without holding my dick, that again, only God knows why. I know a lot of couple need distance and space while they’re sleeping together, but that doesn’t happen to me. I just want her close. Every night in these five months, I sleep with my arms around her, I can’t think of any other way. Wake up at 7, kissing her forehead while she’s still dreaming and wrapped naked in our blanket, and sometimes lovemaking her morning powerless body. Then go out to help out with the house. If I don’t have to work that day, I come back to bed again so I can be next to her again. She wakes up around 8 everyday, the first thing she usually does is feeling my side of bed and if I'm there, she smiles and attacks me with her silly smooches. Yeah, how crappy we are, but dammit I don't care. She’s a habit I can’t leave, an addiction I’m in.

I’m getting used with her around me. I know at times she’s selfish, and I’m selfish. And most of the time, we are both stupid. She has a lot of anger, so am I. Like there was this day when we fought for 4 times. Two of her cats are not coming home for days. She has this strong feeling that one of her cat is already passed away, and the other one is in need for help. Maybe trapped. We’ve been looking for those cats, we can’t find them, and so I told her that cats can survive. They all okay. They maybe find a better home with better food and all. She said, “No. Iko live with me for 12 years. She won’t leave me.” I said, “Give them time. They’ll come home.” She said, “No, you don’t understand. I know it. She’s dead. We have to find her body. We have to find Jack too. Jack still lives. But he needs help.” “Find them where?” “I don’t know. Look everywhere!” “It’s just a waste of time. Cats are smart. They’ll come home.” I was too tired but can’t seem to make her calm. I said, “This is ridiculous.” She yelled, “Don’t you make me mad. Don’t you ever think that this is stupid. You have no idea! You’ll be sorry for making me mad!” I was holding my camera and was intrigued on taking her picture with that angry face. So I did. She yelled again, “Don’t point it at me. You’ll be sorry!” I did try to be a jerk, I took one picture and my lens was cracked. For no reason. My flash blew up, smokes around it.

That is her magic power number three.

She ran out of the house, said, “I’m gonna find Iko and Jack!” It was eleven at night. I asked, “Where to?” She said, “Cemetery in the corner of our block. My cats love to play there, I just remember.” Whoa, cemetery at this dark? I followed her. I know at times she’s crazy, but she rarely wrong. So we went to this cemetery in the back side of our house, I’m not superstitious but yeah I know ghosts are around us. Gave me chills in my back. She kept looking for her cats, calling their names. Sometimes she’s staring at a blank air for a minute, and then turns her head and calling her cats again. I know what she sees every time she stuck up in a moment with blank stare: ghosts. She told me sometimes she can see them, at first she was afraid but then she gets used to it, so if she meets one, she would just smile at it and tell it that she doesn’t mean to interfere and beg it to leave her alone, and even sometimes, praying for the soul to find peace. She knows a couple of letters in Al-Qur’an about ghosts, so she always mumbles them to make herself comfortable. That’s her magic power number four.

We went through some old graves, I help her calling out her cats. Then I heard her calling me. I came to her. She’s pointing to the ground, and cried. It is an almost rotten body of Iko. She’s crying for a while, and then she took off her shirt. I know she wants to wrap Iko’s body and bring her home. I said, “No, use my shirt. You’re a girl.” She said, “You wear a Zara t-shirt. Mine is just a cheap old shirt.” “That’s okay.” “No.” “Okay, you wear my shirt.” I gave her my shirt, she gave me hers, I wrap Iko’s body with that shirt. I said, “Iko is twelve years old. It’s her time to go.” She said, “That’s why she left home. She doesn’t want to die in front of me. She doesn’t want to devastate me. She’s the sweetest soul ever.” Then she took Iko’s wrapped body inside her arms and went back home. We didn’t say anything more.

We buried Iko’s body in the side yard. Said a prayer to her. She couldn’t stop crying so I told her to go inside the house. I finished the burying and went into the room. We had a hot shower together, washed the tub a little, and feeling much better afterwards. We made our bed and cuddled. I asked her, “So how about Jack?” She said, “Jack still lives. He just needs our help. He’s lost and couldn’t find a way home. He ran away too far.” Few days ago Chester, her other cat, had a fight with a lot of other cats in the neighborhood. And since that day, Pussy Jack never went home, he was afraid of the fight. She said, “I wish I know where to find him. At least I know he’s still alive. And at least we have found Iko.”

“So you believe me now?” she asked. I nodded. “Don’t you ever stop believe in me.” she said.
I said a prayer about Jack. I wished God opens the way for Jack to see the path to home. She listened and smiled and said, “That’s beautiful.” She said, “I’m sorry for being mad.” I said, “No, I’m sorry for not believing in you.” She said, “I’m sorry.” She grinned, “… for making you wander through graveyard at night.” I said, “I’ll follow you everywhere.” She grinned, “Even to hell?” I said, “I’d prefer heaven. But if you apparently a satan in disguise who tried to tricked me to fall in hell, then hell it will be.” She laughed. “Yeah, I might be a satan.” I said, “You fit the criteria. You seduced. You’re addictive. If you mad, you blow things. There’s a big possibility that you are a devil.” She laughed harder. And said it slowly with a sad face, “I might be am. I angry a lot. I’m not scare of dying. I can see ghosts. And I’m not a good person.” I told her, “Hey.”

“Would satan go out to find her lost cat in the dark?”

“Would satan forgive her boyfriend who once betrayed her?” I held her face close to mine. I heard her whispering, "Loving is forgiving."

“Would satan be loyal to someone she’s not in love with yet, while she has the chance to cheat with someone she’s forbiddingly in love with?” I can see her eyes trembled. “Hey look, I know you still think of Loh. That’s okay, I wish I can make you feel happier.” She whispered, “You can.” and gently kissed my hand.

“Would satan cry every time she sees an animal or a soul being tortured?”

“Would satan can keep sticking with her family and still giving compassion to persons who have already disappointed her?”

“Would satan love someone so big, so deep, so sincere, even if that someone left her and broke her heart, she still love those ones and praying for them, every day, for their happiness?”

I was sooo sleepy, but still I can't stop rambling.
“Would satan be able to erase all my doubts and anger, and replacing them with happiness, in a glance?” She said, “Do I?” I said it, weakly, “Yes you do. You can sweep my sadness away by just holding me close and kiss my eyes, I don’t know how. I myself sometimes can’t make me happy, but you always can. That, my sweet friend,” My voice is getting disappearing. “… is your magic power number five.”

I think I was mumbling, I was tired. I drifted off to sleep because it has been a long day. I can feel her, holding me close and softly kissing both of my closed eyes.


(Ghosts and satans, please leave us alone. God, please bring Jack back home.)

Never fails. Always makes me fall back again. You are the only one I want to keep.
I am fully. Yours. Don't let me forget about that.
And I love the way you write.