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Renjana Kanya's

I didn't really fall asleep after telling Araz about Mama. It's just that, leaning on the man's arm felt so comfortable that it made me forget if it had previously incubated the wound. Even with a gentle caress at the top of my head, it made me feel more comfortable than a hug. Even so, the chaos in my head still has not subsided. Fear for fear continued to emerge and grew stronger as the train journey nearer to the station where we were descending.

The conversation with Araz this afternoon came back to my mind. How the man was so sorry when he lost his only sister. Could it be that I would feel the same way? I don't know. There was something so painful every time I remembered about my mom. To me, that woman's figure had been meaningless for a long time.

I have not been so familiar with my mom. I am even closer to my father than the woman who gave birth to me. Somehow starting or what, my mom and I often disagree in many ways. Especially the appearance that always demands me to be perfect. Not infrequently mama forced me to do this just to meet the standards of beauty that she set. Dan, I don't like that.

Once, we had a big fight when Dad's distant cousin had a wedding. Mama forced me to wear kebaya and make up which made the whole body feel so itchy. Obviously I refused because it made me feel uncomfortable.

I'm more comfortable wearing a straight shirt than having to dress up and dress like you asked.

Mama says I'm a dissident for not following her words. Though the problem is only one, I do not like to wear kebaya or make up. Very simple no.

However, my mother actually scolded me under the pretext that clothes, accessories, and makeup were determined to be uniform. I remember clearly, at that time I was screaming in annoyance because my mother kept forcing and mentioning a nominal line to pay the sewing fee of the kebaya that I should have worn.

"From the beginning I told you not to wear kebaya, Ma. Mama's the one who added I had to wear a kebaya. The guy I told Aunt Ambar doesn't have to be in uniform. My mom wanted everything to look perfect. Anyway Anya doesn't want to wear it. Point!"

"It can't be dong, it's. Aunt Ambar has prepared all kinds of cloth so that we all appear compact. It's using its own rules."

Maybe it was our stubbornness that made things unmatched. We both have desires and views that are mutually considered to be true. While mama is not a figure who easily succumbs to what he considers the best. Not for me, but for him. There are so many things that cannot be put together between us.

It is the Father who is always present among us as mediator. Although sometimes you defend your mother and scold me too, at least you never force your will if I really do not want it. I can always find a gap. You can always take my heart to obey him. Father is also the one who can always hear my wishes without having to argue about things that are not good. That's why I'm closer to my dad than my mom.

Perhaps, there are moments of mutual strengthening during the departure of the father. We can open up to each other and share stories about anything. About my dreams of working as a journalist. About the romance with the Son at the time. Also about other things that make us more familiar must not be close.

Mama, more often tell how the beginning of his encounter with father. How they fell in love with each other and finally decided to get married. How do you feel when you know the fact that you left us so quickly. From all our chatter every long night, there was not the slightest talk of marriage after the death of my father. Mama wants to keep her promise to live with her father. Mama doesn't want to betray the promise she once made to me.

In reality, a year after the father's departure, the woman appears holding Om Eka's arm and announces to everyone that they are getting married. For this reason, the baby in your stomach must have a father.

The sky is falling on my head. The woman who even a few months before was still so strong with her stance to not marry again, was the one who broke her own promise the fastest. The thing that made me not accept, the woman was looking for justification for her wishes.

"If only Mama died first, do you think your father will also fulfill his promise to live with Mama? No, there is no such love in the world. All are connected by necessity. And, your needs can only be met if you marry again. "

One slap touched my cheek. Grievous. However, that poignant feeling was defeated by the sharpening pain behind my ribs. Then my desire to leave the house that night strengthened. I came out without saying goodbye. My mother didn't try to stop me from going anywhere. In reality the woman was just staring at my passing without looking back at her again.

Again my tears flowed when I remembered what happened a few years ago. There are still wounds that suddenly gap every time you remember about your mother. For that, there is still a feeling of love, maybe just a little respect for mama?

Araz kicked a little as I sobbed back in his arms. Her soft voice returned to me to the dreamland I had just left a while ago when a foreign man greeted us. As for the man, now his words are spinning in my head. Do parents feel lonely when their children are away from home? I don't know. I only took a deep breath to expel the uneasiness from within my mind even though it would be completely unable to.

"Already, sleep. Our journey is still long. There will still be other days we exchange stories and secrets. Sleep, Kanya. Let the dream for a moment treat your barrel."

If the wound were to heal forever, my.

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