That Time, Helplessly...

As it was the last day I have here for this time, I want to rewrite my way back home, and savor every moment we past through together.

Papa, that evening, on my last day there, you picked me up from a friend's house. In that peaceful and lovely evening, I sat on the backseat of the cycle you ride. At that time, I already thought, that our way back home is gonna be tough. I almost say I love you, but afraid that you gonna mock me. I don't want the love I almost never speak up being returned with your typical joke, though I love every single joke you throw every time we sit together as the whole family.

So we talked about the things we've wanted to have but you feel troubled because of Mommy's worry. I remembered I reassured you that I could have myself without that thing. That time, the moon was shining so bright. I almost think that the moon was needed to eavesdropping to our talk because she got jealous at every loving tune we speak off.

Just around that bend, I remembered the time you picked me up from high school. That was the very first time you ever pick me as I was in high school. That day, it was raining so hard, and everything turned helplessly romantic for me. That day I promised myself to find someone who just like you. You've become an absolute standard for my man.

I remembered so many thing that night on our way back home. They turned into a form of a droplet and roll down out of my eyes. A droplet that almost chokes me. Just a droplet that time, then a quick flood. I can't speak at that moment, but you eventually talked to me. I replied, I know my voice was shaky. I was afraid that you realized it, and I knew that you realized it.

We were silent. We don't want to hurt each other. So I pull myself together and we arrived at home. Our home. The place we belong.

I got inside the house and saw Mommy do the clothes. She looked strangely tired and strong at the same time. We threw jokes to each other but got silence when I have to take care of myself. Yeah, I hate myself. After I took care of myself I saw Papa was ironing the clothes. He always have taken care of our family's clothes. He did the laundry, fold it, and even ironing it. He almost always do that.

So I dressed up to go somewhere again. This time I go by myself. I borrowed my brother's motorcycle and say my salaam to them. I want them to be always blessed, so do for myself. As I was go out of the gate, I feel a strange feeling waving to my head. My eyes got blurry and I knew I cry.

For goddamn sake, I was crying helplessly on motorcycle with my helmet's shade is up open. I didn't care with anyone who sees me. I only care about tomorrow; what should I say to them, how should I say it, and about their replies. I didn't know.

Every goodbyes we had was almost like this. I was the one who planned them. I regretted it, but nothing I could do. I was helplessly hoping that I could delayed it until the last day. But once again, I have a dream. A dream in a form of wishlist that I thought I could realize them. Such a bullshit.

I love them, but I have ambition. I don't know if it's my ego or a target, I only know that I have to have this thing. Fuck this thing! It hurt us.

No pain, no gain. We amazingly understand what it means. We secretly wish one another a perfect situation without each other. I hope that you always been health, and strong, and happy, and I knew you always wish me the best that I could have.

Now, you don't have to be worry, Ma, Pa. Everything lies in their place somewhere and waiting to be found someday. I still have tomorrow that hides undoubtedly great amount of possibilities. You already give me the earth and time to be here; now, blessed me to take the first step of the staircase to the peak.

We will be very happy someday, that God smiled to us and heaven is waiting for us to gather again together.

We will someday.

-Sunday, August 6th 2017-