Basorexia

 

It’s been a while. Since I’m writing in English. The last time I wrote something in another language, was for my thesis. But, well, now, to mark my two hundred works on my blog—actually on my way—I think it’s a perfect time to start again.

That is life. You start something. Doing it for many years. Start to feel bored. Forget. You feel empty. Start searching for something to do. Remember. Do what you used to do again. Again, again, and again. It’s like the first time you fall in love with someone. You tried so hard at the beginning but when she was already yours, you started to forget how important a little thing should be. And then you start again, again, again. Learn from your mistakes.

I don’t know what’s the best topic to talk about. I don’t know, really, and I don’t care. I just want to write something in English. In another language—perhaps it can take me—to another world. Probably about my future, or my anxiety, or about how bad our nation has been lately, or, for sure, about you. Anything about you.

You, you, you. You are my ... Ah, how should I call you? We are in a relationship, but also not in a relationship. Imagine it, at the same time. Truly, the world is weird. Time, feelings, life, memories, you, and I. Huh. How can I start writing about you? Where should I begin? Our last meeting? Our first conversation? Or our future? Do we even have a future together?

Do you think the future will belong to us? Will it be ours?

Fortunately. The future is a mystery. I can’t imagine a future as clear as the sky in the perfect evening. The hard work will be useless. The life we had will be boring. The love we gave will be meaningless. There is no meaning, but only nothing. What kind of life is that? Sure, it’s only a bad life. Bad to worse. Worse to curse.

Elly Risman, a psychologist, said, “Marriage, 70 percent is about talking to each other.”

Every day we will talk about daily routine, about money, and about how to educate our children. And talking about random things, and talking about anything, everything. If we can’t talk to each other freely or if we don’t have enough compromise, how can we have a good and healthy relationship? It’s impossible. It’s not possible to build a home for our little family. You and I, as individuals, we will not be able to grow.

However, yeah, that is life. Life will never be easy. We need to be strong. As strong as concrete, as strong as the ocean, as strong as life itself.

Ah ... I start to run out of words. It is an absurd feeling. There are many words in the dictionary, or on the tide, or in the sky. Words are everywhere. Maybe in your perfect eyes or even in your hand’s touch. God. I miss holding your hands. Like we used to be. I miss to hold your hands, in the night, on the train, on our way to heaven.

In the near future. From our marriage, we will have two kids. We believe two is enough. Not one, or three, or seven. Two. The oldest, our daughter, we will name her ... hmm. I think let’s save the name for the future—same for the younger, our boy.

We will build a house with our own hands. You tell me that you have a dream to become an architect, so be it. You will start to draw, to design, and to make a model for our house. And I, will fill our house with a lot of books. Maybe a thousand, or even a billion. Books will become the wall. Our wall is to face life, to face reality, to face everything. Books will be our weapon in this wild life.

Books will give us a lesson, will teach and will make us understand that a happy life is not always about being rich and having a lot of money. A happy life—a truly happy life—is depends on having a healthy mind and body. That’s it; that’s enough. But now, lots of people don’t read a book, and see yourself! They are stressed, they are sad and they always feel failed if they can’t make more money. They wake up in the morning, work for a whole day, and still, can’t make more money. What a pity life! That is a reflection of modern life.

Have you watched a movie called Fight Club? On the train, two men are having conversations about how people live in the city. One man named Tyler Durden said this, “We work jobs that we hate, to buy things we don’t need, to impress people we don’t like.”

I couldn’t agree anymore.

But I believe. Really believe in us. We will not be stuck in that kind of situation. Because, besides books, our life will also be accompanied by fruits. Fruits will make our bodies healthy, and we will always stay on track.

You are crazy about strawberries. So, we will have a strawberry field in our backyard. We will plant seeds together. We will water the seeds every day, will treat them as our children. We will give them what they need, always. We will provide a good life for them. Later, they will see us as their parents. Will love us, take care of us, and give their lives for us, to save us. That is how we will live our lives. Of course. There will be not only strawberry, but any kind of fruit you love; let’s plant them together.

Anything, in this life, no matter how complex and no matter how badly this modern world works, as long as we are together, as long as I’m with you, the life we had will be fine, will be good, will be amazing. A happy life is waiting for us, in the near future. They are waiting for us, patiently. Let’s make it happen. Let’s go there together. Believe in our lives, in our paths, and in our choices. Because life is simple: we make a choice and never look back.

Ah, yeah, almost forget. I have a poem for you. I’m writing this poem on a train, in my way to Bandung.

In a wagon

I conjecture. Which one

that’s true from love:

miss and affection,

or poignant and tears.