Marrying a Friend
A Request for #PovFirhan
A sweet girl, with her pliable eyes was standing not far from where I was standing while looking at this face. His eyes are slowly shining. Her brown hair seemed to sway in the twilight breeze this afternoon. He still looked longingly, then hugged me. Her sobs instantly broke that her face was still sinking in my chest.
"Sister, let's go home? Dad's sick, brother, dad's sick. Ever since brother left us, father was sickly and mother was often daydreaming, aloof. Please, brother, go home for mom and dad?" whining my sister with a heart that is still crying in my chest.
The atmosphere in the parking lot looked so crowded and they looked at us strangely, questioningly. I stroked his head for a moment, then pulled into my car.
Isti bowed for a moment with a hiccup. The sobbing that coincided with the circle of tears that were still flowing profusely on her white round cheeks. As I was about to go home and be in the restaurant parking lot, I met him and was so sad. The dark circles in his eyes were clear. It seems like he is sleep deprived and has a lot of thoughts.
My red Jazz Sedan now runs out of the parking lot, through the streets that have been heavily crowded by vehicles. What was on my mind right now and was disturbing was the figure of two people who were so great in my life, were father and mother. Before driving to our parents' house, I sent a message via message to my wife, Nesya.
It didn't take long, we arrived at the same house, which I still last saw. Nothing has changed, it's just, it looks lonely. No laughter, joking, and the smile of the mother who was taking care of her flowers—indemang middle-aged woman my mainstay is more happy to take care of her own plants than to hire a gardener or something like that— who was lined up neatly in the yard decorating the veranda big this. In fact, the large ceramic pots are now arid with withered plants that decorate. The car has entered the home. I took a deep breath and stared darkly. Usually, the radiant face of an enthusiastic mother runs to welcome, then hugs me with a warm gaze that sparkles with longing when she finds out my return from routine.
Isti now touched my arm and immediately made me flinch and turned to the direction he had been sitting next to me. He looked questioningly and seemed to be only a reply to a knotty smile. We then opened the car door and went down, stepping into the big house that now feels dark. The joy in this house is no more. It is like an uninhabited house.
As we passed through the large main living room, my eyes instantly twisted and sparkled, those last memories completely stirred the mind of the moment. Passing through a corridor surrounded by fish ponds and showers, then right at the turn-glass door, we passed through a large central room, which was, then in the north with no doors whose walls turn blue garden paint color in the family's living room, and heading south after crossing the right side that there is escalator and left side of the corridor door to the kitchen. For a moment, I stopped looking at the large peach painted door with a French-accented inscription symbol above the door when it was in front of me.
I took a heavy breath, then entered with Isti accompanied by greetings and a knock. The mother who saw, instantly splashed in my arms in a bursting cry. To be honest, it feels heavy and can't see them like this. Again I rolled my eyes to intercept these tears floating in the eye pelukan.
This big white-painted room, it's still the same. Some paintings stick to decorate this room, most of which are photographs of God's guardians, Allah's leaf with Arabic script with a clear blue and white background, and other Islamic calligraphy that is no less beautiful. Also, pictures of the Saudi Arabian night city and the Grand Mosque, especially the Kaaba building. The rest, some family photos, the marriage of the father and mother first, and photos of both of them that look friendly.
To the west, there is a king-size bed with ancient, yet unique motifs polished with copper and gold paint on it, with a blend of purple fresh sheets. On top of it, lies a helpless middle-aged man whom I so desperately long for. The sturdy body I last saw now dropped dramatically, to the point that it seemed barely to know who the man was. My tears instantly dripped.
Unknowingly, the foot immediately stepped closer without any fear of the threats he had made to me. His thin body was wrapped in a thick purple badcover that really, he looked fragile there. The eyes that missed her figure so much, really made me unable to bear and collapsed to my knees before this man. My hand was already in her big thin hands that were so warm while bowed and instantly tears flowed down.
"Dad?" lirihku on the sidelines crying.
"You're not my son, don't call me that anymore" Father said, but this time it sounded not anger and hatred, but, like a longing.
"Dad?" call me again, the more I hear my sobs.
It felt like I missed saying that word, like an alluring opium and creating sakaw without being able to stop.
"
I told you, you're not my son, you're not my son!" Shouted Dad with a tone of voice high and bitter containing sad.
I looked at my father for a moment with a sad face and still full of tears, stood up which was still not out of my sight. Then, stepping away that instantly made my mother's cry explode in my arms that was intercepting me away. At a glance, I saw there were tears in the temple of the father that immediately flowed.
"No, son, please? Dad, please, don't you separate my son from me?" erang mother was begging me while looking at the tears, then briefly averted her eyes at the end of the sentence while glancing at her husband who was lying helplessly on the bed.
"Firhan, please, help mom, son?" Please be careful who keeps trying again with a gaze so empty with a flow full of tears and fragile.
Oh, God, please strengthen him.
I again rolled my eyes and pulled this beak woman into my arms, hugging my mother so tightly. My breathing stopped and my chest felt tight as well. I took a hard breath.
O Allah, it feels unable to see the owner of my paradise is clear like this. I could feel what he was feeling, he was suffering from my tap,
I clenched his head and once again clenched so tightly while closing his eyes. Then, after taking off our arms, I looked down at the shady eyes that were so hurt but so missed. I took a deep breath while grasping his shoulder. "Mom, I'm not going anywhere, I'm still your son and will forever be your son! How could I leave this paradise of mine? Leaving this beautiful place that gave me so much beauty and love in my world, how can you, Mother? I'm not used to it! mother is still my woman, the beautiful woman Firhan in this world," I glanced at this frail middle-aged woman with a sparkle, then wiped her tears and kissed her forehead, then came back hugging and I almost whispered at the end of the sentence while rolling my eyes at the ceiling.
"I promise, Mom, we promise. I, Nesya, and my mother's granddaughter" I almost whispered while still hugging her, which was meaningful in the tone of my voice. I hugged him tighter.
After a moment of staring at him, I then kissed the top of his head once again while holding this fragile body that was still shaking because of the crying that was still not stopped, then held my sister, Isti, and left.
Today, my soul is empty. My life is empty. Like a mace has been thrown hard in my life. Nesya and family are a part of my life that is equally valuable and not a thing to choose from.
My feet stepped as if without a soul, whether my soul was lost to where. Away, away go slowly away from this house filled with the inhabitants of the people I love. The night sky was dark. My car quickly drove through the cold night city with a million sorrows that were engulfing and rumbling in the minds of those who had been so far.
One day, Mother. Maybe not now, but someday! I'll bring back our family and join the rest of my life. My nesya and your granddaughter, one day, but soon! My sigh promised in the darkness of my soul so empty.
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