LOCKDOWN A Love And Covid - 19

Hopeful

I was pensively pensive in the row of chairs, the heavy hands of someone placed on my head calmed my increasingly loud cries, I hugged him.

"why..?" asked Dad stroking the tops of my head, I didn't notice how many pairs of eyes saw me crying this second. No matter how many people listen to my cries that roar shut in my father's body. All I felt was pain and tightness in my chest. I lost my direction and purpose. I wanted to run but I didn't know where. I feel like I'm the worst person in the world. I tried to catch my breath, to ease the crying, the sadness and the anger in me.

"Mas Firhan didn't get here, his number wasn't connected either." I shed a lot of tears to wet my father's white shirt.

"iyya, we wait. He'll have to book a ticket suddenly. His phone died because his batrenya ran out. You know your husband often forgets to bring a charger..?" I looked up at my father's eyes, I was still not calm, but my eyes really convinced me that Firhan would come in the next room.

"let's buy food." Dad took my arm, my steps dragged into the small cafe owned by Roti'O. The aroma of the special coffee that was served burst into my nose.

But really at this moment I am not interested in my favorite food this one.

I just want to get word from him. I was too selfish for any news from Firhan.

I sat down and my father ordered bread for me, this time I caught my pitying father's face. I'm very good at hiding problems and fears. I could barely discern which one was honest from his expression. A tray of two classic Bread'O and a choco shake was set before me and my father. Dad was waiting for me to bribe but I was also waiting for Dad to bribe his bread first.

"from Jakarta, it has landed" said Jakarta so clearly in my ear. I immediately stood up leaving the banquet we had bought. I walked a long way to the front of the guest pick-up. Still the process of picking up goods in the trunk, one by one passengers out of the main pick-up door, I occupy the leading position behind the pick-up line boundary. Yet again only a foreign face was caught by my eyes. I can't possibly forget his face, I remember his height, I remember his body even though it was behind me or even from the far side, I memorized it very well. Sometimes I set foot, trying to find out if he was still in the baggage claim area or maybe he was late so he had to wait first.

There's no accurate answer that surrounds my head, all just prejudice.

Just like father, who only guessed from the habit of Firhan who forgot to bring a charger.

I was sitting limp, finally dad came out of the cafe Roti'O with his order for me which was cold I think. Dad sat down next to me, sometimes he also made sure of Firhan's phone, but every time I wished his answer was just a head-butt from him there was no answer.

Just a hope if it is in the end me and Firhan not found. Flight schedules from Jakarta are many, 6 airlines will come in a few hours. I hope one of those airlines brings Firhan to me. Announcement that the plane had just landed and from Jakarta, I moved again from my seat. Looking up again, catching a face again and likening it to my husband, but nothing. My father stood up after he was done with his phone call, and he watched the passengers walking in front of us, without any of Firhan Avecenna's faces.

Seconds turn into minutes, and minutes turn into hours. An hour passed. A few more minutes will be the deciding point for me and dad, my eyes have swollen, narrowed from tears too much.

The last announcement of the plane landed at 20:45 p.m.

My father and I also observed one passenger after another that none of them resembled my husband.

My heart ached, my mind was in turmoil, my mind was screaming with tears. I can't believe I have to go home empty-handed. What happened to Firhan. Who else can I call so I know how things are going. Or should I follow him to Jakarta. It would be even more confusing if I were there. With who? By himself? There's no way that's happening. And if I take Dad. What about his job? Finding people in Jakarta is a tough job. The city is the center of the capital of Indonesia. My mind is too dead-end to think again. Just a pulse that kept going was like beating the side of my head with a dull log.

Though I want to tell you, I want to say thank you very much for being an encouragement to me, I want to apologize to him for leaving him alone in Medan for half a month more. And I bought her a bouquet of her favorite green and white lily so that she would understand the sincerity of my race to her that never wavers and changes. But everything is just hope, just hope that only spoken can not be practiced in my real world. All hope began to fall.

Amidst the colorful sparkling lights of the city, when everyone began to keep a safe distance to avoid the corona. You were supposed to be by my side, but you disappeared, I don't know who to ask. What happens if Firhan is really stuck in Jakarta? I thought deeply, as well as the silent father of a thousand languages in the steering wheel while holding his head. I'm sure you're confused about this.

I let out a heavy sigh, looking blankly out of my car window. While continuing to hope Firhan will reply to all the messages I have sent. In the heart of Yogyakarta, my hope vanished and flew with the night wind. There's too much hope I've made of Firhan. There are thousands of hopes that I have put together when we part. But one major hope disappeared making all the hopes related to it also fade.

Let it be, I want to be silent not wanting my heart to speak to anyone again. I choose to be quiet. I choose to wait.

If this hope is in vain then I will let it be too.

Everything I want is just hope.