On Whose Lips Will These Tears I Drop

Cry to My Chest Until You're Happy

After a long time inside Fariza's house with various forms of unclear conversation, I asked her parents for permission to sit for a while on the porch of their house.

Before I stood up, Fariza's mother was still playing her eyes on me. I know, she must be tired of her husband. There are many reasons for a wife to grow a taste in other men. Like, harmony in a family that has faded, romance in silence that is no longer alive and many more that are not able to be equipped by her husband. Naturally he loves me and I also naturally love him and his son, also Nuri Ameliaku.

Fariza and I sat on the porch. A maid came and placed two glasses of coloured water in front of us. He also looked at me a bit differently, I think he loved me too.

It turns out that is my advantage, although the hair that grows on my head is not worth showing but the women still love me, even though my hands are not perfect they are willing to accept the grip of my fingers.

What a great life, when I thought I would never get love, I was confused who to love, in an indeterminate time. At least they'll love me until they find out in my head that there's some hair that doesn't grow. Piled. I've shaved before, but I look like a terrible tuyul, but if my hair is allowed to grow I have a hard time explaining what my head looks like. That is why the hat is my second soul. If he gets out of my head, then I'll die for the one who sees me.

When I fantasized, Fariza suddenly waved her hand in front of my face.

"Hello, is that still there?" Smells at me.

I was surprised, and spoke incoherently to Fariza, "Yes, I love you" I said, improving myself.

"What's? You love me?"

"No, that's what I mean, I just want to ask how much you love your partner?"

I tried to change situsi after I mispronounced.

He smiled, then raised the glass on the table. She was so scared that she spoke again,

"If you want to know how much I love my partner, then I must love you, because my partner is you." He put the glass right next to my glass.

"Like this glass, it would not be beautiful if both were filled with murky water but if one of these glasses we fill with colored water surely both would be beautiful if put together. Like dusk, it would not be beautiful if the sky and white dew did not slip between its golden color."

I didn't heed his expression. I can't afford to say that my fucking heart loves him, too.

What a heart of a jerk, whoever the woman is he must love, make my chest tight.

If I see her mother, love grows, too, damn it!

Seeing me not reacting to his words he looked me in the eye and asked me to listen to his story.

"Ladri, before I expressed love to me, I had often received expressions of love from other men. I had forgotten how many they were, but there were some men whom I had returned love to, but the love I had grown in their hearts they had killed so horribly. They left me when I started to find comfort. Among all the stories I have had with men is one man who was in a relationship with me for more than two years. Not a few stories that he gave me, including he also gave the seed of a child in my stomach. Not long after that, my father and mother found out that I was three months pregnant. Unbeknownst to me, they gave me a potion that would make a human in my stomach die in a form I couldn't see."

His tears spilled, maybe he could not remember the story of the past.

He hasn't stopped talking, I was just a good listener for a heartbreaking story.

"Thank you if you believe me."

"Ladri I don't care what your past is like and what your background is. All I need is a heart that understands my heart and my lust for me and my parents' possessions."

I stood up and sat next to him. I gave my chest for her to shed her tears.

"Shed all your tears, do not hesitate my chest is ready to accept the heartbreaking story. I'll take it and put it on every story I don't deserve to cry on" I tried to calm her down while opening both my arms to get in my arms.

Although very strange, that is my story. I get love from a very beautiful woman. There is no story so great to hear if farewell comes to say the word, welcome back. But he loves me, and I love him too.

After he started getting tired of dropping tears right in front of my heart. I lifted her head and wiped the tears that were still flowing towards her lips.

"Never cry again for all the stories of your past. Those men who abandoned you were the ones who lost the most for removing the diamond-clad gold ring from his hand when he fell into poverty. Now look me in the eye, even if we never make a romantic story, I will try to make you happy more than a mother saw her first baby born in the world. Fariza, if I'm not in a dream can I confirm it?"

He laughed spoiledly at me, patting my chest.

"Where may this be a dream," so refuted as he wiped both eyes with his palm.

"If this is not a dream, then you are the first person I have ever embraced and cried in my arms."

She was crying spoiled to me, "Aa, you must be lying. I don't believe."

"Fariza, if you don't believe it yet, please ask anyone you think he won't be able to lie including about what I said earlier."

"Who, everybody's always lying,"

I hugged her even tighter and looked back at her face and then spoke,

"If it is difficult for people to be honest, ask the Almighty God for all that never breaks the promise and whatever it is. Ask in your heart, and find the answer in do'a and dreams. It's not God who will deliver, but the comfort you get from me. Fariza, after this I want to tell you my story you never knew."

"Tell me, I know for sure, at the very end you say you love me as you said."

"Not that."

"So what?"

I'm still thinking clearly, should I tell him that I'm a jerk hiding in his future partner's house.