A Poem To Dila

Flashback

I Deni, Deni Ardiansyah Arafah, Gender male, Pisces who was born in Bogor on March 5, 22 years ago. Recently, I successfully completed the first volume of my first book entitled "A Poem for Dila". It was my first written work that told me about my life in high school at one of the schools in Bogor. At that time, I fell in love with a woman who was so easy to get my heart hooked, and until now, I still love her even though time has moved faster than I feel for her.

Now, I am writing the second volume of my book, still in the same state and place as before. With a cigarette between my index and middle fingers, I stared at the monitor with a photo that always accompanied me. The photo is a portrait of me with that woman, taken five years ago.

When I first entered High School in one of the schools in Bogor, I met a woman named Dila. We passed by in the hallway of the school on the first day, and on the second day I finally found out his name.

“Where can I contact?”

“Iya, can,” Dila shook my hand and smiled. “Dila... Fadila Ningsih's. You can call me Dila aja.”

At that time Dila and I had something in common, we were both teenagers who enjoyed the beauty of the twilight sky as the sun set behind the horizon.

At school Dila is a figure that makes people feel comfortable with his presence. It is simple, but its specialty lies in simplicity itself.

Behind its simplicity, there are complicated feelings that are difficult to decompose in a simple way. Even so, I really enjoyed every moment we spent together, as if time stopped when we were both together.

“Why Jarjit if the pantun always starts two three two three?” my many.

“Because the pantun is only two or three lines possible, but I also do not know the. Ehehehe.”

“Salah.”

“Terus what dong really is?” Dila asked.

“Because the first one was you.”

We were both teenagers who were met by a scenario created by the universe, and falling in love with her was a choice I made. I love her not just because of obsession or desire to have, but more than that. The feeling was so complex and undefined, a euphoria I could hardly express in words.

I like Dila not because she became the prima donna of school or because of her beautiful face. I have no particular reason why I could like Dila. Maybe the feeling just came and never stopped until now.

The school cafeteria was a place where Dila and I often spent time together, connected to each other.

“Again, ma'am.” greet me to the canteen mom.

“Eh, you tumben come together si 'neng geulis' aja, others where?” Ask the canteen.

I smile. “They again split the bed, ma'am, so they don't come here.”

“Where they have separated the bed, they are not married yet.”

“Eh, the mother does not know, I am the same Dila aja already fiancee.” said me while showing the ring Dila wear to the canteen mother.

The cafeteria mother was surprised to see the ring on Dila's ring finger. “Eh, seriously, Eneng is already fiancee Deni?” said the canteen mother while holding Dila's shoulder.

Dila, who heard my words, directly hit my head and denied. “No, ma. This ring has Dila, not an engagement sign.”

“If you are alone after graduation where to go?” My toot.

“Maybe I will go back to Tangerang and study there, can be said I will not return to Bogor again.”

But that parting always made my heart so sick when I remembered the parting moment that I couldn't even stop Dila from leaving my life. Disappearing is the word I used to convince my heart when I was with Dila about talking about her not coming back to this city.

“When you graduate school where to go?”

“My plan after graduation is not to go straight to college. I plan to take time myself, maybe about a year or two after graduation just going to college.”

“What do you want first?” Ask Dila back.

“I want to see places I've never seen before, and see even more beautiful twilight even though it might not be as beautiful as it used to be.”

Dila smiled warmly, while continuing to play my hair with her fingers. “You still still yes very fond of twilight, Den.”

“Dila?”

“Iya.”

“Can we still meet after this day is over, after we graduate school, and even after many years have passed?”

Silently for a moment, his eyes wandered into the corner of the room. Then, with her hand still stroking my hair, she replied in a soft voice. “You remember you once said, that if one day after we graduated High School we can not meet, you will make a story about the High School period that we passed together. You'll tell me about the times when I wasn't with you. And at the end of that story, there will be words, 'finally we meet too'.”

Dila continued, still with her delicate fingers playing my hair. “Thank you, Den, for these three unforgettable years.”

But right on June 23, the last day I met Dila where I still remember the incident to this day. The moment where I really lost Dila from my life. The moment in which my depression began after that incident.

"Crazy." Call me with a voice that sounds fragile and hopeful in the silence of the night.

Dila turned to face me, her eyes emitting a sad glint that I was hard to resist. He looked at me with a faint smile on his lips, but his gaze looked distant.

"Yes Den?" He answered in a nearly disconnected voice.

I walked up to him, step by step, and held his hand tightly, trying to hold back time to pause, so that we could be in this moment forever. But the world kept turning, and time passed.

"Goodbye, Dila." Whisper me with a voice full of tenderness, though my heart breaks behind the fake smile I made.

Dila let go of my grasp, her gaze returned to the gate of her house which seemed to be the border between us. Without saying a word, he entered the gate of his house, left me alone in the darkness of the night and then disappeared.

Before the night of stabbing my feelings to death, before I fall asleep in front of my computer, in the name of longing let me continue the story.

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