Black Room

Wounds of the past

Tears do not always fall out and flow in the cheeks. Sometimes, tears also fall in and drip on the bottom of the heart.

****

Someone who falls in love is a victim. Someone he loves is a suspect. Victims and suspects are an exhibition of everyone's romance. No need to measure age. Sometimes in front of our love like branches of leaves that sway when the wind blows. Never in balance.

Harboring or expressing are two options when one has a feeling of love. Holding the feeling of love will be painful. But revealing it will also hurt if the feeling is unrequited. And I chose to keep myself close to the idol.

Buk mutia knows all about fiona from a little note I wrote two years ago. At that moment I vented a wound through a pen that became a scream of inner voice. The wound was born from a broken heart when Fiona recounted her happiness and new boyfriend. My chest was cramped with a crushing sadness that only I could hide. No one knows about the wound I kept secret. Until I could rise from the abyss and accept the fact that love does not have to have.

Whether this is God's destiny or just a coincidence. Buk mutia showed me the wound I wrote two years ago in a photo sent through BBM. Buk mutia found the writing from the table buk asmarni. I just remembered that I took out that wound in the back of the history notebook. The book of asamarni which shows the writing to buk mutia. And buk mutia felt touched reading the writing. Buk mutia could feel perfect sincerity flowing in every verse I wrote. Until the wound incarnates the beauty of the feeling of love itself.

I fell silent next to my bed. The night outside the window looks bright even without the stars and moon illuminating. I read over and over again buk mutia's message. The silence brought my memories back to the times when I felt love two years ago.

I felt two fears from falling in love. Two choices that are both confusing and feel chest tight. Reveal or hold. Both of them brought my mind to fear that was a risk. I curse the heart that is in love. Love makes me go wrong. On the one hand, I want to keep and have fiona. But on the other hand, I'm afraid that my feelings will ruin and keep Fiona away from me. And I finally chose to keep it a secret with all the pain I received.

It is not easy to get up when the heart is badly hurt. The days are hard to live with such a fake smile. But the imposition forced me to toughen up and pretend like everything was going well. Slowly but surely, I finally got used to it and became someone who never dissolved in disappointment or injury. Breaking up of kaena, imagery, and risk is never a problem that accumulates as a burden in life. I have come to understand that love and hurt are a couple that should be accepted when we are in love.

My blackberry reads bbm sign in. For a long time I stared at the green light flickering in the darkness of my bedroom. I turned off the lights so I could fall asleep faster. But the vagueness of the mind so wildly demands me to stay on guard. I opened an incoming message that I already knew who it was from.

Mutia Heriyenti's

"Fiona's a friend right? Where's he at school? Can you tell me about fiona? I was curious about his story"

I let out a rough breath. I drowned my face in the pillow. Buk mutia is very strange by bringing up the stories of the past. Why would buk mutia want to know about fiona? Even I almost forgot that I once ventured into a book.

The Alendra

"The past deserves only to be a lesson, not to be remembered or retold"

I turn on the music with a blackberry. Peterpan's song titled bintang disurga melodious singing fills the silence. The lyrics are very touching and feel like they match my current feelings. I also sang to vent my pain tonight. The music turns out to be the bus represents and provokes feelings. But one day I will come to know that music is haram because it can make the listeners commit adultery.

Mutia Heriyenti's

"Not the past his name, if your heart still shakes at his name"

The Alendra

Play music on blackberry switch play naff song titled snuggled laraku. Two years ago it became my favorite song. The lyrics that sound piercing in the heart can describe me loving fiona. But it's been two years. Now I understand that my friendship with Fiona means more than love.

Mutia Heriyenti's

"What you're really saying. But I just wanted to ask why do you prefer to be a coward? What happiness would you get from a coward. Happiness because it harbors a taste? It's bullshit"

I swallowed spit. Bitterer. Buk mutia called me a coward since this afternoon. I felt my heart ache when buk mutia called me a coward. What buk mutia really wants.

Dikan.

"It's hard to talk like I can feel like I am. Whether I am a coward or not is my business. I deserve to live by my own choices"

I replied to buk mutia's message with annoyance. I took marijuana located on top of the bopet. I decided to go back to marijuana. I really want to get rid of all the feelings of grief that are now hitting me.

I sucked my long twisting. A new eta song called seven vows flowed to accompany my path of grief. I opened my twitter and took out the slang in my heart through status. Writing twitter status is my habit when I'm upset.

"You are a tormenting dark shadow. Poison in the sweetness of happiness"

I installed ScrenShoot twitter status that I wrote earlier as a BBM profile. I intentionally did that to insinuate buk mutia. Buk mutia became the poison of the sweetness of happiness that I felt from loving her.

Mutia Heriyenti's

"Sometimes a person first defines his fear before trying. Like you, you can never get out of your grief"

Buk mutia was wrong. I have long since come out of that sadness. The sincerity that helped me to get out of the ravine full of wounds. I decided to no longer reply to buk mutia's message. Buk mutia will not understand my feelings because buk mutia never felt like me

Giving up is the right decision. Just like I felt about Fiona. Why force ourselves to express a feeling if we ourselves are not sure that feeling will not be reciprocated. Doesn't every man live with his own mind and conscience? And there will be no desolation for someone who has followed his own heart.

The rain started to fall outside the window. The rush of falling broke the silence. Tonight I understand. Tears do not always fall out and flow in the cheeks. Sometimes, tears also fall in and drip on the bottom of the heart.