Adolescence

Episode 58's

...Between Love and Friends...

"So in the middle of the street that aisle, suddenly someone called me and he also patted my shoulder...." The story is long

And from a distance suddenly Rian came.

"What the hell Lo Ya, I call nyaut nyaut" he said

"Well, what's Rian Lo doing?" Ask

"So that was elo?" Ask Arya

"It's ghost time!" Rian

***

Not the story of Romeo and Juliet whose story is written and also filmed, nor about the famous Rama and Shinta. Not a rich man, just an ordinary man, not a writer but just someone who wants to express every feeling through the verse of words and also the ink scratches that I pour with my heart and feelings.

The sweetly written annual temple of my love story with him that sits in the courtyard of love together with my heart that is always ringing with the whispers of his love so sweet, so sweet, indefinitely revealed but I can't say. I'm just someone who adores him in the distance, I'm just someone who tries hard to stay loyal to him even if I'm just behind the distance, don't ask me how I feel if you can't move on from the past that haunts you because it's so unfair.

The splashing sound of the rain rushing from the drops to the sound of a loud, not enough one but thousands of puddles of water swept over my shoulders and drenched me, not enough one, I just fell silent while letting every puddle of rain and also the boisterous sound of the wind blow fiercely on my face. I'm a nobody, I'm not the director who made my documented life journey into a movie. Even in the crowd I was still alone and feeling lonely, like there was only a firefly accompanying me in the silence. I'm just me and not him, let me keep this feeling at a distance because maybe you're not for me and maybe this feeling will one day go away on its own.

Never the hell you like someone but only limited to taste and can never express it, he said, maybe you are afraid but actually also embarrassed if you have to face the same person you like so you just try to cover up your feelings and just be quiet and awkward or awkward if faced the same the person you like so you look like an absurd and strange person to expect. I am a poem of hope, of longing, of remembrance and of the past, of trying to forget but powerless, I can only hold memories and the past in the longing hopes I want to turn into reality. But I realize the past is still a past, it is not necessary to expect much from him if he comes back later his story is clearly not the same. So why does this heart not want to stop hoping, when it knows that the past has left it. And who leaves should not be pursued, right?.

Not the story of Romeo and Juliet whose story is written and also filmed, nor about the famous Rama and Shinta. Not a rich man, just an ordinary man, not a writer but just someone who wants to express every feeling through the verse of words and also ink scratches written with the heart and feelings.

The sweetly written annual temple of my love story with him that sits in the courtyard of love together with my heart that is always ringing with the whispers of his love so sweet, so sweet, indefinitely revealed but I can't say. I'm just someone who adores him in the distance, I'm just someone who tries hard to stay loyal to him even if I'm just behind the distance, don't ask me how I feel if you can't move on from the past that haunts you because it's so unfair.

The splashing sound of the rain rushing from the drops to the sound of a loud, not enough one but thousands of puddles of water swept over my shoulders and drenched me, not enough one, I just fell silent while letting every puddle of rain and also the boisterous sound of the wind blow fiercely on my face. I'm a nobody, I'm not the director who made my documented life journey into a movie. Even in the crowd I was still alone and feeling lonely, like there was only a firefly accompanying me in the silence. I'm just me and not him, let me keep this feeling at a distance because maybe you're not for me and maybe this feeling will one day go away on its own.

Not someone who is good at stringing words, not a psychic who is able to express words, not the predecessor who is able to say words, and not the painter who is able to draw words. Every despair paints a word, every thing provides information about the journey of life and every time will scratch ink about the meaning of happiness and also sadness. I'm just an ordinary person not a protagonist who deserves to be flattered and also not an antagonist who deserves to be made in the bully, not also a figure who just passing by, not just passing by, I am not a slang girl who is pretentious and also not a cool cool girl who is cool, I am not as romantic as Nicolas Saputra and also not as beautiful as Dian Sastro Wardoyo, this is not a story between Rangga and Cinta.

I don't know why I became a poetic figure when I was not a funny or romantic girl, and also not a girl figure who slang like noodles, not even a pretentious artist, not even a pretentious artist, let alone to be pretentious my quiet face might be considered a less friendly and not good at getting along, even though I really do not know anything. Why yes lately I often write in my diary until one day I realize my diary is full of my curses, the point is long at times wide is the same as either since when I became a romantic figure like a top pesinetron when in fact I am an ordinary and not famous person. Maybe it's not me if I don't have a taste, because every feeling will lead us to a love, or friendship like the story I wrote here. I don't know Lo want to read or not as bad as Lo yes the term bodo very, because from the first I did not like a lot of talk but once said a lot.

Rian and Arya are indeed one class plus the two are also friendly although sometimes they always fight only when they meet. Arya's innocent and innocent nature makes him a material to joke his friends, while Rian who is the most famous ignorant even has a lot of fans among girls, while Rian, even so, Rian only has one girl, Ara.

"Btw pesenin me noodles gaul dong!" Rian

"Lo ajah!" Aryan

"What the hell Lo, ywdh I pesenin, but I wrote Lo owed me yes" replied Arya

"Byeah!" Rian

Let it be that among his other friends only Rian ajah who seems cool but unfortunately he has no money. While in the dictionary Arya there is no word of friend for him debt yes remain debt.

"His ice mom owes me first!" Rian

"What the hell are you who just haven't been paid!" Said Bu cantina

Rian, always wanted to exist but unfortunately the pockets are hollow. The motorbike he used was a motorbike from his father's workshop that he used to go to school, while if he had gone home from school sometimes his father did not know that the motorbike in the workshop that used was him.

"This is why there are berets gini feeling already in tidyin" he said

"Di!" Call Rian's father to his employees

"Yes sir!" Answer

"This is whose motorcycle is make?" Ask

"Hmmm" he can only be hemmed in and pretend not to know because it's been bribed with Rian

"Anu sir!" Answer stammering

"Anu Anu what?" Said his father Rian

"Definitely Rian who makes?" Ask

Every time Rian always changed Gonta motorbike but not his motorbike but owned by a customer in his father's motorcycle workshop, as a result Rian was furious with his father.

"You this how the hell, already ....." Rian's dad was angry but I skipped.

The feeling we thought was gone was still there, there was only a word between me and him, the picture I still keep but I don't display only taru in my closet and I put it in the deepest part, it's also rarely touched. He is different not like Raisa who I knew before, only his height is still the same, he said, people say that any love can happen but this is different just a sudden taste of a sticky then he went somewhere. Like Dejavu he keeps coming he goes then comes back, a feeling that is stored with warmth of affection but many things also that make it special.

***