Tuesday, May 30, 2017

I don't know.

You know you're not healed when it still hurts like hell, everytime your mind wanders to places it shouldn't go.
But who can control your mind? They have their own will, somehow. Just like your heart.
How badly it hurts, broken, scarred, your heart wants to heal. It wants to be okay, for you. But sometimes heart lost the battle, and the mind wins all the time.
The worst thing is, once your mind wins, the pain comes through to your whole body. Killing you slowly from the inside. That's when your heart regrets for letting your mind win the battle.
How long your heart can take the pain? The hurt? The sad and ugly truth? That yes, he's happy and you're miserable. He's okay and you're not. He's whole and you're in pieces. He found another lover while you cannot believe in love anymore.
How to be healed?
I don't know. I tried and I'm still trying. Sometimes it hurts like hell, but at least I don't want to kill myself anymore anytime the pain strikes back.
I'm coping with the pain. I'm used to it. Eventhough I still grasp for air everytime the heart suffers from the painful memories, I welcome them like an old friend.
Maybe that's how you're healed. Don't ask me, because
I don't know anymore.

Saturday, May 27, 2017

a brief conversation with heart.

"come to think of it, I don't want him to find me as broken pieces.
I want him to find me as the rarest diamond he's ever seen
or like how the sunset fascinates him,
and how the morning excites him,
I want him to find me in that state, because I know
he's gonna be more than amazing to me.
and as amazing as he is, I don't want him to find broken pieces,
I want him to find the most amazing person he could ever see,
and that would be me."

Friday, May 26, 2017

If you ask me,

If you ask me who do I expect now,
I don't know.
I was a dreamer once but since I'm lost I can't find the way back to that valley; where I used to sit down for hours, imagining things.
But maybe it's time to grow up, to stop just sitting down, and stop imagining things.
If you ask me,
I have no picture whatsoever about who I'm gonna end up with.
The one I'm gonna kiss in the morning, no matter how smelly his breath is, it would smell like jasmine to me.
The one I'm gonna cook my fave comfort meal, just to remind him what home is.
The one I'm gonna tell my deepest fears, yet with no fear at all since I know he's gonna be my safest haven.
The one who listens to my music, the one who can really see my pictures, the one who reads my writings.
The one who's just as crazy as I am about coffee, books, and old buildings.
The one who
ㅡhits the reset button.


I don't know and I don't believe that I'm gonna find that kind of person, but I know; that someday

I'm gonna read this again and say, "see, you're wrong, past Monika."








Monday, May 22, 2017

sadness and hurt.

You, one sad, beautiful thing.
You sit here alone, every night; battling with your own emotions.
You're so overwhelmed with things you shouldn't feel but you cannot help it everytime those thoughts come creeping in every morning at 3.
Revenge doesn't satisfy you, you're not looking for one vengeful event but you're still hollow inside.
You're hurting and full of sadness; yet you have to act like everything's okay, just to calm the storms around you.
You've gotten over your hatred, your anger; but sadness is one thing you cannot let go. You will always be that one sad, beautiful thing, you know that.
Beautiful, but sad.
You've been battling with depression for how many months, now? The thoughts of ending your journey just as soon as possible; not because you want to see the end of this, not because you're weak, not because you're seeking for attention, not because you're feeling worthless;
but simply because you cannot forgive yourself.
You still haven't forgiven yourself after all this time, have you?
Oh, you one sad, beautiful thing, you know how much I want to bury you in my embrace right now, showering you with warmth, just because I know you deserve to be loved.
I don't want to advise you; I won't waste your time with the same words you've heard for thousand times already. No.
I just want to envelope you in warmth and love.
So that they can end the winter inside your heart.
You, one sad, beautiful thing..
You're full of sadness and you're hurting, I see.

ㅡ a brief conversation with mirror.

Malang, 22 Mei 2017
06.05 am

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

kehilangan dirimu.

Aku pernah. Rela kehilangan diriku sendiri, karena aku mencintai seseorang. Kehilangan segalanya.
Tapi bukankah memang cinta harus seegois itu? Harus ada yang berkorban. Harus ada yang mengalah. Harus ada yang memberi lebih dan kurang menerima.
Lalu aku belajar, ketika aku hilang.
Aku pernah mencintai sampai kepada titik aku rela mati. Aku rela kalau harus berpisah jalan dengan Penebusku. Aku merelakan untuk berpindah jalan dari jalan keselamatan demi cintaku. Aku memperjuangkan sampai titik darah penghabisan. Aku rela kehilangan masa depanku. Aku rela kehilangan apapun yang aku punya ketika itu. Sampai pada titik ketika aku habis; ketika aku hilang; ketika aku tidak punya apapun lagi untuk diberikan;
Dia pergi. Dan dia mendapatkan cinta yang baru. Orang yang masih utuh. Bukan yang sudah habis seperti aku.
Tidak ada satupun yang dia tinggalkan, semuanya dibawa. Harga diriku. Pengorbananku. Cintaku. Nyawaku. Aku berserak di tanah, seperti pecahan kaca yang sudah tidak diinginkan lagi karena, untuk apa? Tidak ada gunanya lagi.
Sampai pada titik, buat apa aku begini, tidak ada bedanya dengan nyawa-nyawa tersesat jalan. Lebih baik aku bergabung bersama mereka, sekalian. Setidaknya aku tidak sendiri.

Luar biasa, ya. Ada orang yang bisa hidup bahagia sementara orang yang mereka siakan hanya bisa berpikir mati.

Ya, aku sempat mati. Tapi ini bedanya: ternyata memang harus seperti itu. Aku harus mati supaya aku bisa terlahir baru, hati yang baru, segala sesuatu yang baru. Karena yang lama sudah tidak bisa diperbaiki sama sekali; sementara ini belum waktuku untuk pergi.

Aku bangga, bangga pada diriku sendiri. Bangga akan kemampuan hatiku untuk mencintai seseorang; bangga akan keinginanku untuk selalu membahagiakan orang lain. Bangga akan ketidak mampuanku untuk menyakiti orang lain. Aku lebih baik disakiti daripada menyakiti. Sakiti aku berkali-kali dan aku akan tetap bangun, lebih kuat dari sebelumnya.

Aku bukan aku yang lama; tapi kemampuanku tetap sama. Aku tidak akan berubah hanya karena aku pernah mati karena cinta. Aku akan tetap mencintai orang lain sebesar itu, aku akan tetap rela mati demi orang yang aku cintai. Pada akhirnya, semua ini bukan perkara aku ingin dibalas dengan perlakuan yang sama atau tidak. Aku hanya punya terlalu banyak cinta dan aku sudah cukup dengan diriku sendiri.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Phoenix.

you may realize this or not, we're all in the same battle: a one constant, never ending battle. it's happening inside our head, everyday. some battle are way more quiet than the others; including mine. but some are way too loud that sometimes you're drowned in your own thoughts. eaten up alive, from the inside. next time you know, you wake up covered in dirt and flowers.

dead.

I'm not the kind of person who gets anxious easily. I can dim that battle inside my head whenever I want, and they're never loud, so I was okay. Was.
But now the battle is getting bigger and louder; I need to start listening to what they're battling about.

But the more I listen, the more anxious I get.

What are they? Why are they trying to undermine every steps, every choices I make? It's not a battle to win. It's a battle to lose. To make us lose ourselves, eventually. It's not a battle for a good cause; they're not struggling for a better day.

Instead of burning the bridges they tell us to burn ourselves.

I woke up dead, the other day. I smelled roses and burned candles, and I found myself lied next to them. Dead bodies of the one who lost the battle. This was the result of me trying to dim that loud sound but I ended up getting dragged into the battle, and lost. Everyone was. This wasn't a battle to win, anyway. Once you're in, you're in, and you'd lose.

But if I was dead, how could I stare at that reflection on the mirror, now? Does the mirror tell lies? Because that reflection on the mirror that I see, she's okay. She's smiling. Her hair is full of sunflowers, and that pair of eyes are alive. Who's she?

She's you.

No, I don't want to listen to you. You're the reason I took my own life in the first place. You're the reason I didn't want to live anymore. You were saying how worthless I was. You're the one who told me there's no future; it's merely a mirage and I was in no way getting near to that so-called happy ending.

You're the one who said I didn't deserve happiness.

I'm not those voices. It was all inside your head;
and I don't live in there.

So where the hell are you from? And why should I believe you?

That girl on the mirror smiles. She looks down to my chest; and I dislike it. I hate it when people were staring down at my chest, looking at the big hole where my heart used to be. I hate to be reminded how foolish I was and everytime I got reminded of that one stupid mistake, I couldn't bear the thought and imagination of me killing myself. No, I can't kill myself anymore. I did that way too many times. And I'm tired of being a murderer.

I'm new here.

She's still staring at my chest, and I couldn't take it any longer. I look down and get ready to see that scar; that one big hole again. The one who made me feel cold at 3 am every night.

But it wasn't there.

The hole in my chest is gone. It's completely gone. My chest is whole, and it's warm, without scars.

Listen.

It's beating.



"some of us are born Phoenix; we need to go through hell and die, just to rise again, born new again, but stronger than before. we're magical."

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

all is fallen.

Dia berdiri menatap tanah didepannya, diam.
Tidak tahu harus memikirkan dan merasakan apa.
Tanah itu tidak merah. Tidak ada gundukan. Tidak ada bunganya.
Tanah itu tidak layak; tapi disana terbaring bagian dari dirinya. Yang dicampakkan karena tidak dikehendaki kehadirannya. Yang dibuang begitu saja karena katanya kalau belum empat puluh hari, belum bernyawa. Dianggap tidak pernah ada, tetapi selalu datang di mimpinya.

Bahkan untuk meminta maaf saja, dia tidak sanggup. Apalagi untuk memaafkan dirinya sendiri.

Orang lain, yang juga bagian dari yang terbuang itu, hilang entah kemana. Pergi bertemu sosok lain yang lebih utuh, mungkin. Dia tertawa getir, memahami kenapa orang itu pergi. Siapa yang mau hidup bersama orang yang cacat? Yang tidak utuh? Yang berbekas luka? Berdosa? Siapa?
Wajar saja dia pergi, katanya pada diri sendiri. Berusaha untuk berdamai dengan apapun yang membuatnya bertanya-tanya, membuatnya membenci orang lain setengah mati. Dia lelah. Lebih baik berusaha memahami apapun alasan mereka; toh manusia seperti itu. Tidak ada yang salah dan benar, semuanya relatif.

Dan, bagaimana dia bisa membenci orang itu. Mereka pernah memilik sesosok yang berdarah sama, meski sekarang sudah melebur bersama tanah yang sekarang dijejaknya. Tidak, dia tidak membencinya. Dia memaafkannya. Bukan tugasnya untuk membenci atau membalas. Itu tugas semesta.

Alam mulai menangis; mendung yang menggantung sedari tadi mulai mencurahkan perasaannya.

Anak-anak kecil yang sudah menatapnya keheranan sejak kedatangannya tadi pagi, mulai terusik. Satu persatu berusaha mendekat, namun tidak berani terlalu dekat ketika mereka melihat wajahnya. Dingin. Basah, entah karena air atau karena tangis, mereka tidak tahu. Yang jelas, pemandangan di depan mereka ini tergolong aneh.

Untuk apa seorang wanita dengan pakaian modis, mobil putih keluaran terbaru, berdiri didepan sebuah tempat pembuangan sampah sambil membawa seikat bunga mawar warna merah muda dan menangis?

Perlahan, dia meletakkan bunga itu di tanah. Tidak ada yang bisa dia berikan selain bunga. Tidak ada yang bisa dia lakukan selain meminta maaf dan memohon ampunan. Setelah semuanya ini, dia tahu hidupnya sudah tidak sama.

Hidupnya sudah melebur jadi satu dengan tanah, kembali ke bentuk mulanya.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

4 Mei

To the man who left a big hole in my heart;
whose whereabouts is still unknown, to this day.
The one who once gave me a golden childhood but also a broken one,
but the one I cannot stop loving
and whose name I will always say in every prayer.
wherever you are, whatever you are doing, whoever you are with, right now,
your daughter is missing you.
happy birthday.

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

the train will take me back to you.

The train.
The sun.
The sea of people.
Moving back and forth; just to reach another place. Maybe it's familiar; or maybe it will be new things to face.
Some are lucky enough to have companion, while some are still waiting for a final reunion.
You?
You're on your own and you feel content about that. Usually. But just now something feels off about this contentment. No, feeling content doesn't give you tickles on the stomach. That feeling you get when all of your friends are finished with their tests and you're the only one who's left behind.
What's this feeling? It's uncomfortable.
The train is leaving in 20 minutes, but you still don't have any intention to board the train. You're waiting for someone to come; the one you left a note for. The one you told about your sad poems despite the fact that he was a complete stranger. But that's the beautiful things of sharing your deep dark secrets with stranger, isn't it? You won't see them again so it's not a big deal.
But this person isn't going to be just a stranger. You know that.
You check out your phone, half-cursing yourself for not leaving him your contact number. Letter? Who wrote letter, these days? Seriously, having an old soul sometimes becomes an issue when you cannot differentiate between efficiency and melodramatic.
"Attention, Malioboro train from Yogyakarta is gonna be leaving soon to final destination Malang Kota Baru station. All passengers to board the train in lane 3. Thank you and we wish you a pleasant trip."
You look at your watch one more time, and you decide to give up. This wasn't your plan, anyway. You came here to make peace with your past, not to wait for some stranger to come up and listen to the rest of your pathetic poem. You have to let that one go, maybe. The stars aren't aligned and you've gotta be agreed with what universe has planned for you.
You reach for your trunk's handle and you're ready to go into the station. But just then,
"Wait!"
You turn your head; and there he is, your beautiful stranger. He holds a papercup of coffee in his hand, and he's panting as he reaches your place. "Thank God."
Thank the stars.
"I seriously thought I'm late."
You smile. "Almost."
"You're leaving? You're not coming back?"
"Yes, I'm leaving. And of course, I will come back. Why won't I?"
He smiles; it's almost strange how a stranger smile can be so captivating yet calming at the same time. He hands out that papercup in his right hand to you. "For your daily dose of coffee, specially brewed by yours truly."
Yours. He said that.
"Thanks. And..."
"Yes, you will see me again. Let's say... 7th of April? How's that? I already booked my ticket so you have to empty your schedule on that day. And you have to take me around your town. To the beautiful places you usually spend your sadness alone; and let me hear the last bit of your sad poem."

In the end, the stars did align.
And the train will take him back to you
--or if you couldn't wait that long, he will fly. He will. Don't you worry.

-Jogja, 19 Maret 2017-