Sabtu

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Saturday is supposed to be fun and the most awaited day of the week. Tapi semua berubah sejak negara api menyerang. Some time months before, gue anxious ketika Sabtu datang. Beda dengan orang-orang yang baru anxious menjelang Senin, dulu gue selalu seneng menjelang Senin karena berarti kerja lagi, Lalu, apa yang gue lakukan untuk membuat Sabtu kembali menyenangkan? Setelah berhasil mengumpulkan energi, Sabtu pertama gue menuruni air terjun. Apakah ini kegilaan atau memang gue sedang membutuhkan distraksi, tapi eksplorasi pertama ini seakan membangunkan gue dari koma panjang bertahun-tahun. Berhari-hari merasakan chest pain, gue kira, umur berhasil mengalahkan kesehatan gue dan mungkin gue juga punya penyakit jantung seperti mama? Pun ketika dibawa menuruni air terjun, nyeri di dada tidak terasa. Memang sudah lama gue curiga itu hanyalah psikosomatik. Efek di badan karena pikiran. Lantas ketika dibawa bertualang, rasa sakit itu justru hilang. Sayangnya efek adrenalin sirna beberapa hari
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The Color of Heart is Black

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I'm losing track of how many days passed since mom passed away. It's still surreal. Like she's on vacation and would come home anytime. I really don't wanna talk about my feeling, I don't want people to analyze me with seven stages of grief. I don't want awkward sympathy or hugs. I've not buried myself at work so I don't feel. But every time it's hurt. More than ever. And every time it's sad, sadder than never.

The only two people I love more than my life are ma and lil sis. The reason for my money madness. My life purpose to give them an easy life. To never feel pain like I did. To never see the dark side of humans. Not because they're fragile, but because I need them to be happy.

Once I heard a saying, 'Don't ask for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulder'. And I believe that Allah knows how far my strength is. But sometimes there were nights when I cry myself to sleep. Life without ma feels hollow. Of course, I don't have anyone to talk to. Even when I did, when I gather my trust for them to share a piece of my scar, the only response I got was 'sabar ya'.

So I drift away. I shut myself once again like in 2008. My heart bleeding. My eyes were numbing. There was a time I can't feed myself because every food reminds me of ma. And I was choked with my own tears. The only reason I finally able to eat again was because I know, I can't afford to be sick. I don't have ma to pamper me.

Life's goes on. None of my family move on. We still can see scars in our eyes. We're scattered. Lost. Floating without an anchor. Never they see my tears.

Ma was everything. Losing her makes me meaner, colder, ignorant. It changes everything in me. Don't have any desires. My future life image was broken. And I haven't found the way to fix it yet.

I'm not okay. I'm never okay. But we agree to use a mask in public, weren't we?

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