OWNER OF HEART

Eps 7's

For a few minutes, I looked at the message from the traveler. Many times I read to guess how he expressed himself. When he wrote the message he sent me. There are no emoticons at all.

“What should I tell her, should I pretend to lose my memory? What should I apologize for?”

I tapped on the end of the phone, thinking about what was the right sentence to reply to the message

from Traveller. Oh, dearGod. Yesterday I went to great lengths to find his account. Now that I've met, even he sent a spectacular message, until I was confused to answer what. He's a human, what the hell, to make this whole thing wrong?

“Hei, Traveller.”

I typed two words. Read it over and over again, then delete it.

“How are you?”

“Thanks for the mizone the other day. Sorry if I made a short story about you without asking permission first.”

I tried to type longer messages, but it felt less fitting. I deleted that message again. Why is it so hard? I was silent for a moment.

“Sorry.”

In the end, that's all I wrote. I pressed the enter button while closing one eye.

“Hahaha.. So, you are typing from just now just to write.

those four letters?”

The traveler replies to the same dimenit. I held my seat, leaning against the wall of the room. So, why is he waiting for a reply from me? Confused at what to reply, I just gave a laughing emoticon.

“What if I feel utilized?” reply later.

Feel exploited? He's kidding, right?

I smiled, “I never asked you to tell me about your circumstances.” My answer. This time I was waiting for a reply from the traveler.

“But you listen, even store in your memory with so much detail. Worse yet, you are also prejudiced against me. Even guessed my backpack filled the bomb anyway.”

My throat was suddenly dry. God, I did write in detail about our togetherness in that waiting room. His voice filled my head and it was as if I was just copying it to the keyboard.

“Sorry..” once again I reply with that word.

“You author, can not find a word other than ‘maaf?”

I laughed again. However, even though it never felt impossible, but I had prepared a few sentences if one day met a traveler.

“Good.” I typed with my breath. “I do have to buy you coffee for all of this. I also thank you for a bottle of his mizone.” I sent the message and a second later stared at the empty bottle in the corner of the table.

“I accept yes, I bill sometime,” he said.

I replied with an emoticon laughing again.

“So, besides selling memories you are also looking for opportunities huh?” tukas Pemander.

My eyes instantly widened.

“Eh? What opportunities, yes?” I don't understand what

sent just now.

“Utilizing the stories of the people who told you.”

I smiled, “no. Not always.” I'm telling the truth. This is the first time I've ever written about a stranger, I mean someone I just met.

“Means I'm special, dong?”

What did he say? Damn, that sentence made my cheeks suddenly hue warmly. Is he really special? I raised an eyebrow, thinking of the right sentence. I can't answer carelessly.

“More precisely inspire.” I typed in a reply while puffing my cheek.

“Wow! How many strangers have inspired you, Miss freak?”

Oh God. Why is this so, so, the question? Some stranger? Time also I have to answer him. I finally chose not to answer.

“Your story is cool,” he said later. This time, I gave the emoticon a smile. So I replied with a smile as well, and a thank you.

“You should add my phone number at the end of the story, so that the story can continue. At least you give good hope to your characters?”

I read five times the sentence that the traveler wrote. How could he think about that? Giving good hope to the characters?

“I just want to write a story that makes sense.”

Like I said, sometimes people just cross each other. Without seeing you again, right?

“So you think, when I find you now, it doesn't make sense?”

“Not so...” Yes, of course that's not what I mean.

My eyes widen. Mobile number?

“Eh.”

Does he think cell phone numbers can be easily shared?

“After I shared my phone number, shared my story, then you wrote it and loaded the famous national media, now you still suspect me?”

I'm choked. He typed without emoticons, making it difficult for me to guess his expression.

“Not so.”

For me, it's not easy to share a mobile number with a stranger. Just a few names I kept as contacts on my phone. But this time the one who asked for a Traveler, someone who had made my life half crazy. Moreover, I did write about his story, published in the national media dream. And finally it was he who found me, when I started to go crazy to look for his whereabouts.

I stared at the screen, weighing a few things. It might not hurt to share a number with someone who's been haunting my mind for a few weeks. If he messes around, I can block his number.

“0812*****”

I typed my number. Travelers only read. He didn't reply. Because I don't use a messenger app, so I don't know if he's still online or not. I immediately searched my notes. Check the number he once gave, then copy it into the contact. Sebagimana on facebook he uses a backpack profile photo on his WA account.

Minutes later, how could I easily give my cell phone number to a stranger, whom I met only once accidentally in a train waiting room. And I also pondered how easily I connected with the Traveler. In the novels. It's as if it's made up. As planned. And it seems like just a stalemate. Sometimes this will get criticism from readers.

But what is impossible in this life if God wills? In a story, the writer may need a reasonable story, while in real life it is often out of the ordinary.

I checked the inbox. No more replies. He also did not say hello on WhatsApp. But one friend request appears in the notification. This time I didn't have to think twice about confirmation.

“Mheta!” Rini looked at the window. “You okay?”

“Why, Rin?”

“I see from earlier, you smile yourself. Not because of that used mizone bottle, is it?”

I laughed, Rini glared.

“How about I answer, it is because of that?”

“Maashaa Allah, Mheta! Come back to earth, Mhet!”

Instantly I jumped off the bed and stood on the floor, “have?”

Rini glares. “Until when are you obsessed with people who do not necessarily still remember you, Mhet?”

I smiled as sweetly as I could. Shows the phone screen that displays my short story page.

“Buset! Loaded there? One month of your salary is your honor?”

“And this?” I swipe the screen and show the Traveler account.

“Application?”

“Am I as sad as that, until I have to make an account application all?”

Rini's speechless. He looked at me, poring over every inch of my face. Perhaps, he was wondering if I was lying about the wanderer.

“Mheta, unfortunately I have to go now. You should tell me later.”

“Ngakriiii!” I was so excited about Rini's departure.

I also immediately prepared to go to rice sanity close to the boarding house. To find breakfast. Because the contents of the stomach are already stretched. While waiting in line at the rice stall. I pulled out the phone that was nailed to the skirt.

There's a WhatsApp message from the traveler.

“You look like a jaim, but it turns out easy to believe

also.”

God, what kind of word is that?

“Whose talk to you?” my reply.

"So you believe, if all my stories on the station are true?” what kind of question is that?

“So, you're just bragging?” my jaw is starting to harden.

He did not reply, until it was my turn to order food. Arriving at the boarding house, I saw my phone. But there is no answer yet.

I'm trying to look at social media. The topmost sign appeared upload photos of the traveler. Sand-filled Swallow-branded flip-flops with a fragment of Sapardi Djoko Damono's poem, mortal is time, we are immortal. One minute ago.

A minute ago held my phone, but didn't reply to my message? Is he really mocking me?

My feelings become uncomfortable, “why am I so careless?”