Longsuffering

Three Years

Since the leaves fell on that ground

I'm scraping life numbers for him

inside and meaningfully

- Vishnu

Bandung, Vishnu-Wita

7 Years ago

Vishnu Pov

A month has passed since my chat with Wita hung up without an answer. So from that I can count three times I met Wita in a place that has always been my routine on the weekend in Bandung in the morning. I was determined to decide to deny the sense that continues to fluctuate unnaturally. But why do all my plans always end rhythmically with my actions. Completely betrayed all my principles as an architect.

The first week of my meeting with Wita after my chat last time, he was still as fresh as I always saw. Always cool with the images he made in the ash book that now looks new. We were silent without conversation. A gentle breeze of the morning air slowly tightened his scattered hair. He is still cool with his world with blue pencils in the handle of the thumb, index and middle finger.

“you like tan”.

“iya?” tanyanya looks surprised. I took out the chocolate I bought yesterday at the minimarket in front of the house. Strange, even my teteh commented on his beard the actions I showed. I who from childhood did not like chocolate suddenly had the initiative to buy it.

“bisku almost arrived” while showing the chocolate still hanging in my hand in front of him. He grabbed my little food and looked at me in wonder. I left without a sound and stared at the entrance of the Bandung-Jakarta bus.

The second time I met him, he seemed to be sitting in a different uniform. A little different because I saw the name tage that hangs with the words “NationalDivision of” which is equipped with a photo fitting belonging to a beautiful face berparas ayu, Wita Maharani.

“ujian?” my many.

“ah. yes last day” he seemed surprised by the question I was serving. On second thought, he was always surprised when he heard my voice. Hearing my real question is simple. But yes, the question of being her lover is not a simple one for her, it seems.

I thrust a small brush at him, and he seemed to be frowning. Asking with his eyes and smile. “pencil to accompany you draw” I replied. He then took my gift and was glued to look at the pencil wrapped in the small box. I left and was ready to approach the bus that had been seen from the front to where I was standing. I then decided to stop my steps and then look back, I thrust a bag of food that I bought yesterday from the same minimarket. Contains milk boxes, chocolate, torn bread and a small bottle of mineral water with a blue mountain logo.

“the last day of the exam, I had to eat a lot” I said when the plastic bag landed on his lap. He looked at me, and my gaze was fixed on his two clear eyeballs. Come on Wita, why do I miss so much, while you are still far away for me to reach. I then decided to step up and enter the door of my bus, walking towards the middle seat that still seemed empty. Set yourself up to sit in that seat. I cupped my face with both palms, sighed and gave up.

My fourth meeting after my unrequited chat I decided to stop and shut up. No one can force all the decisions they make. There is no word of right in a meeting that has no certainty. My tongue is too faint to put out a question, because I don't have a proper sentence to say. He was still sitting pensive, looking at the leaves that were blown by the morning breeze of Bandung. I don't even care about my book of ashes and the pencil he's been ignoring in his hand. I walked up my legs and left. Put yourself in the car of Bandung-Jakarta to take me away.

A few months went by, so I didn't see a sweet face called Wita on this sidewalk. This is not good for all my organs. I'm giving it away, but can't I if I still want to see it?. Then my phone rang, someone's call sign. A wita?

I picked up the phone that had been making a sound with a slight tremble.

“halo, assalamu’alaikum”

Silent for a moment, come on say something Vishnu, where are your vocal cords?!.

“sabtu this graduation Wita, Friday’at afternoon we can meet?”.

I fell silent, Owh Lord, his voice why is it so melodious. Andwhat? Meet up?

“iyah of course. You decide the place” replied me immediately.

Then today, in a modern but simple caffe I was dealing with the woman I had missed for a few months. A simple shirt wrapped around her body, looking prettier than usual that I saw in an ash-white uniform.

“Wita has no boyfriend, and has never had a boyfriend” she started the sentence in silence we both. Sure enough, a face as beautiful as this doesn't have a lover yet? Never been?. Even I who have the look of the alakadarnya has twice undergone a relationship in terms of young people now, dating. Although it does not start from my heart until it ends also because my heart is never willing to give, give heart to someone.

My first girlfriend Hana expressed her feelings in the middle of the podium when I became the managing chairman of the campus ospek. With hundreds of pairs of eyes I was forced to accept it. What will happen to her heart, if I reject her feelings in front of many people, Hana is my best friend. Walking a torturous year, I decided to end it even though I saw his disappointed face.

My second boyfriend I have to accept for the classic reason of parenting. And walk for 6 months until it should be at the point of ending. Burhan once said, my face that is worth 9 plus does invite a lot of interest from women, is it true? Burhan's statement is invalid. It is unacceptable to be accurate, because in fact Wita rejected me.

I looked at Wita and kept silent, waiting to continue with his hanging sentence. He opened an ash color book that had a new cover. He put together some long sentences but my attention was focused on the pencil scratches that were on the white striped paper. How could he speak while his hands kept moving making a picture?, his eyes did not dare to look at me. He focused on his book while his interlocutor was in front.

“Wita the first child of two brothers”, he drew two faces with braids and short-haired masculine faces. I guess his brother's a boy.

“Wita's sister's male” right? “still school” yes it is Wit, you just want to graduate High School.

“father a merchant, trade porridge. While mom helped dad trade. Every night Wita also had to help them prepare the merchandise. Therefore Wita must from morning leave for school in order to take the time to study in class before study time arrives”

“owh..” replied I nodded understand. Then he continued.

“designate Wita only one. To be like a mother. Accompanying father and have children like Wita and Salim”. Oh.. Salim's sister's name.

“Maybe Wita won't decide to go to college, because sister still needs school fees. He is more important for school because he is a boy” you know.lho.concertiv once thought this woman.

“so..” he sighed for a moment, then raised his face that looked down on his ash book. Just now he took the last picture of the school building and the little sister I can't guess what her face looks like. Because it's just a caricature.

He then looked into my eyes that had seen his beautiful hands trembling in drawing in his book, while my hands were closed on the table and I leaned against my body to see clearly the picture he made. I answered her gaze with my gaze. He then uttered a sentence that would be the bind for my current destruction. Up to this point.

“how long will Wita have to wait?” tanyakanya. For a few seconds I was silent. Trying to understand the ambiguous question. Hold your breath and slowly adjust it.

“three years, wait for me three years” I replied firmly.

“well, Wita wait”, he replied as he closed his ashes book and gulped down a glass of my water and pressed it down without a remnant.