Love Me Because of God

Not Feeling Left Behind

In front of a shabby closet that rarely opened, I sat down agape at the pile of books welcoming with humility. Even though I have kept these books dusty, shabby, smelly, and even fuzzy, not once have they refused to be reopened. Describe to me how that one-handed form of love is.

The XII class High School. I feel it's time to review the lessons of the past that are beginning to sink into memory. And from within this cupboard, one by one I set aside the books I would have needed to replay that memory.

Busy sorting through, a thick book wrapped in a combination of blue – white reflects light right falling on the retina of my eyes. It made me turn to be interested in taking it. When I opened, a line of 3X4 half-body photos decorated sheet by sheet.

True allegations. It's a memorable album that I got from Junior High. Funny also review the characters who are now replaced by new figures in life.

Fun with nostalgia, suddenly the photo of a beautiful girl looks less friendly remind me of something. With a rush my hand opened the page which, well, remained the same! The column that someone was supposed to occupy was empty, no photos, no words were conveyed.

I could not believe my decision when SMP was going to be the base of a short story that was engraved beautifully but stifling. Unable to stand it, the memories that were tiled in my brain also thrashed out into flashes of events with uncertain grooves.

After school at that time, when I was in Junior High, I decided to join my friends to play at the house of Ila – my classmate who despite only a few weeks up to class IX, we were already familiar.

That's where I know Deni. Ila's stubborn cousin, who makes naughty children reluctant to disturb Ila if she does not want to be beaten, who is one school and the other with me, only that there is no class.

Me and my friends were cycling around the village. Really, I can't imagine the beautiful atmosphere at that time. Bonking filled the road with endless jest, the expanse of rice fields with houses not too dense, the streets shaded by dense trees, the buzz of radio carried by Ila, and the, and the back in front of me that I don't know. I don't know why Deni forced me not to refuse to be hugged even though I insisted I didn't want to.

The group that day we also named with Ontel’s club rest on the clear river bank. The river that I think is the only natural one in our city. The river that I loved at that time may be four or five years old and full of rubbish.

The steep river lured us down, enjoying the atmosphere by sitting on rocks and soaking our feet in the shallow water. On one of the biggest stones, I sat offending Deni. I'm facing Ila, Deni facing Asrul – his friend -.

Not knowing at first, Deni and I who were sitting on their backs suddenly had a conversation about a topic I did not expect. About his family, himself, and his life that not many people know. That was the beginning I understood Deni, a brave, tough, and fun-loving adult.

One day after school, still when Junior High, but the difference has known Deni, a group of students do not usually hang out on the road that I usually pass to the stop. Of course it has something to do with me.

Looking at the appearance, I'm sure besides the book that even though only one, in the bag of the students also contains cigarettes, matches, maybe even low-dose illegal items such as cim*ng, he said, a pill is called a cat pill, and what else is it called. One of the debated cultures did not quickly develop among students my age.

And someone pulled my backpack on the road not far from the stop. Dropped the daydream about the horde in front of me at once.

“Ila will take you home. Please bring motor today.” Without turning my head, I ignored those words and continued walking without hesitation.

But he didn't give up, He gripped my arm tightly until as hard as I tried, I couldn't take off the cloth of my sleeve that stuck to his fingers.

“Do not expect I will let you face them.” His words made me turn around.

“Why be afraid? I did the right thing! Do I have to be quiet to see a friend get busted in front of my eyes? Now what? they don't accept that I'm stopping the anarchist act? How cowardly Asrul who to face a weak girl like me just brought a lot of friends.”

“You are not an ordinary weak girl, Rin. You're a nice girl who doesn't have a tempe mentality. That's what makes them act excessively.” Clutches stretch.

“This time follow Me!” Holding both my shoulders.

“You're not running from trouble, but I'm helping you solve it. They're more than you think. They are emotional. They will not hesitate to do the silly thing they want, believe me!” He said slowly trying to read my mind.

After quite a long argument, I finally lost and Deni managed to convince me that they would not hurt him. He knew Asrul's friends who were also his friends. I'm just a house girl who doesn't really know their character.

Those who think I meddle in Asrul's affairs. Asrul who wants to punch a punch on a friend – that I know as a nerd – just because it does not want to give money that Asrul wants.

I don't know what Deni did, the next day I felt safe and relieved not to see him battered and Asrul behaved normally. Day made me more familiar with the mainstay striker of the school football team as well as active per*kok that is difficult to stop.

I don't care if I'm surprised to see it. Undeniably Deni is cool, not suitable to be called be-ran-dal, it is natural that girls including Beautiful – famous girls with supermodel style – crazy made.

Beautiful buzzes when Deni comes to him just to say, “Arin, my brother. You're bothering him means you have business with me.”

From that moment Deni took care of me like a big brother. What for forgetting my name, he used to greet me, “Dhek..”. What's weird, Memet – friends back of my stool – holiday to see me if there is Deni. And even stranger, Deni's rivals made me an easy target to provoke his anger.

So much influence Deni. Sometimes I'm a special friend, sometimes threatened. My friends judged, Me and Deni are on different and contradictory paths. So it is wrong if I – schoolgirl trust institution – hangs out with the reliant who has always been the center of supervision of teachers, especially teachers BK. In fact, not at all. I think Deni's a lot better than they thought.

The three in Deni that I rarely find in the other bandals are: one, do not forget the Pipe, two, talented – only the problem is more superior to people than his talents -. And, never – once – I saw Deni wearing a gloved Taqwa shirt leaving Salah Jum’at in the Mosque. I was working group at Ila's house at the time, pangling – in disbelief -. I found another one from Deni that maybe everyone knows too. He is handsome, occupying the third category.

A week after graduating from Junior High School. I received advice Asrul – friends who once hated me – to come to Ila's house.

There I saw Ila and the others were looking at Deni's sister's pick-up car. The tub car was carrying a junk motorbike that I had been forced to ride because until the afternoon after school there was no public transportation to drive me.

It is still clear how Deni brought the comfortable dashing bike. Makes me want to exclaim “Don’t try it at home” to little boys who are fascinated to see how to ride so charming and brutal.

But as he said, “I will try not to bring you in danger.” I trust.

Pick up it's moving away. Far away until it is just a point and then it is gone. Spontaneous I approached Ila.

“Ila, you have the heart huh?” Unbelievable disappointment I can't cover.

“Tega said you? You know what, Rin? Do you know I'm surprised to see Deni so open to you or Deni who wants to know someone like him wants to know everything about you? Have you ever seen Deni mer*kok beside you even though before knowing you was not terbesit in the slightest thought to stop mer*kok? Or Deni fighting when you were? Definitely not! I-i know. Deni doesn't want to bring anything bad to you. He doesn't want to mess you up. And now, why didn't I tell you about Deni's plan? Deni didn't want you to see him so sad that he had to leave an unusual taste for you. He was too afraid of losing you.” Ila spoke very hot to make my heart beat irregularly and unable to hold back tears longer.

“Deni definitely back ‘kan La’?” I asked to cut Ila's cut.

“Deni says she doesn't promise.”

A little I unraveled about Deni. He grew up just inlay* his only brother. His mother died when Deni was able to live life by crawling. And that day, Deni and his brother intend to accompany their father, ex-convict who lived on an island with a reason that is difficult I tell because it is too long.

“While in playing the ball of life you are not as skilled as playing football on the field, no one knows tomorrow you will produce a goal as beautiful as you usually score through the opponent's defense goal. Yes ‘kan Den?” My heart once told Deni after watching him compete in the inter-school league.

I remember Deni's response back then. He replied to me with an uncharacteristic smile while raising both of his eyebrows. The answer it might mean, “Yes, who knows!”.

That's peak. Deni's gone. Not forever, but not to return. Giving nothing. Not misleading beautiful jokes, not expensive items that are less useful, not photos that are sometimes boring, even just filling in the album of memories, no. He only gave beautiful moments that I felt I would remember until my memories could not accommodate him.

He made me feel a sense of directionless longing. Not the longing of an old friend on his best friend, a sister on the big brother, maybe not like the longing of nerds on a mountain of thick books, per*kokkok on the steaming smoke, but, or an addict's painful longing for illicit goods that makes him s*kaw. I don't know what sort of thing. Unspoken like the fruit of the taste left behind.

But now I realize. That sense should not be too nurtured in the minds of immature Muslims interpret it let alone not be able to implement it correctly.

I removed the memory that had troubled me along with the closure of the memory album that widened in both palms of my hands. Now, there is no longing that has no direction, and all this is no longer the feeling left behind.

I got up from my seat. Taking Wudlu’ then Praying. On the sidelines prostrate, kalbuku surrender, and,

“Al-Haq, The Most True, I beg you for forgiveness, You are the true love of every people.”