Rose Scented Woman
Go Home To Go
A heartbroken Joko feels toyed with by Mira sitting on the beach while lamenting her fate. He thought that love needed sacrifice, after which he would be able to get what he expected, the love of Mira. But it all turned out to be empty words.
Starting from the monthly money he gave greater than his wife, boxing with many burly men to save his lover and noisily with his wife even he chose to divorce her for the sake of Mira, but Mira apparently only likes her manhood. The world is cruel to a bucolic man like Joko.
I don't know what he's going to do now, just staring deep into the invisible edge of the sea, like his life is no longer visible clarity. It turns out it is true what people say that love and love are different. Anyone can make love but cannot fall in love with just anyone. Joko has fallen in love and enjoys making love as a form of his love for Mira, but for Mira all of them are just transactional.
The waves get stronger sweeping the beach occupied by Joko, his body starts to get wet, covering his tears that have fallen since the sun has not yet disappeared, he is desperate, heartbroken for the umpteenth time, he said, Drowning himself in the waves that came rolling up his heart's sorrow.
“Bring me to the sea, maybe the princess in green will fall in love with me, make love to me and make me the only one.”
“The green-clothed sea goddess doesn't like weak men like you Joko.” Astuti who had been behind Joko for some time joined his vague daydream.
“I'm not weak, you can see my bruise.”
“Hatimu Joko, your weak heart, look at you now, like 10 years ago when Irna died you were alone on this earth.”
“I hate Tuti's love, they make me feel my heart like it's firmly grasped, I don't like Tuti.”
“But I like, I like you Joko, I love you like your love for Irna used to be Joko.”
“You just loved me two weeks Tuti, no need to brag much.”
“The amount of love is not measured by the time of Joko, if from the time should your love be as great as the love of Mira, but look now? He left you because you asked him to be his wife, didn't he?”
Joko silently watched Astuti sitting next to her looking at her lovingly, but Joko hated her presence.
“He has no love Joko, his past has taken all the love from his heart, he only has the taste to make love, the pleasure is no more than that. And you should know what kind of woman she is.”
“What do you think you yourself are? You also had an affair with a young man, right?”
“But I never undressed in front of him, I was just trying to do what you did Joko.”
“Then what kind of woman are you Tuti?”
They look at each other, Astuti assures Joko that his life is not worth stopping here, just because the woman who devoted her life to seeking the pleasure of making love.
Joko's hand in her hand, gazing deeper, then holding her chin said that she desperately wanted the man in front of her to be hers intact with no shadow of Mira's name among them.
After the sentence was finished, their lips smacked each other, exploring each room warm, full of gibberish to make the cold atmosphere on the beach was immediately replaced.
That night on the beautiful beach, Joko and Astuti let go of longing as a couple before the surrounding residents asked him to return home and play in bed.
On the other hand, Mira is stuffing all her clothes she likes into a suitcase, she is about to go to a place where she no longer has to hear Joko who keeps begging for her bond, neither Herman nor Arman, none of whom were under observation, but at that time Mira realized that her life and life had been saved by the three men, but her determination was already unanimous, he's not gonna make everyone look for him fucked up.
Mira put a letter on top of a rose that adorned her living room that was quite messy, she thought later it would definitely be sought, so she wrote the letter to stop anyone who wanted to look for it.
Early in the morning, Mira leaves all her bitter memories and her nest in an apartment as well as a piece of faded paper.
“Jakarta, thanks for the wound, I love your aroma and the atmosphere of pollution you give, I say Jakarta.” He said to the door that did not answer even though he was stared at with a puddle of tears.
Healing wounds by going is not the right thing, in fact all guilt will always follow and continue to haunt before the apology is completely resolved. Even so with other feelings that are the same depending on false expectations, unexpressed love, unchanneled love and ego that continues to control all human control over real actions.
The desire that continues to be satisfied is now only pensive waiting for the owner to fulfill his wishes. The logic that continues to haunt every second to get rid of **** and the sins of the inhabitants of the earth. Wandering forces the owner to believe that he is the truest of all things true. Logic, they call it the king of truth, the feeling of being subject to the logic that is said to be king, love is also nothing without logic, nor with ******, he must be willing to be lonely and persecuted because for logic before the yellow janur curved I should not be open, must be tightly closed. They call all that by logic, when they are only concepts of human selfishness to organize and make everything equal to what he has in mind, all without exception or who do not follow will be excluded.
Thirty minutes passed, finally Mira had arrived at its original destination, the airport which began to be crowded with passengers in the morning was busy with big bags and several suitcases with famous brands, namely, the color of the airport in the morning made Mira's head feel dizzy, all the colors seemed to bother her so as not to leave Jakarta as the capital.
Suddenly Mira's eyes were fixed with a striking green color. The green kept approaching like it was opening its mouth to swallow Mira round and round, but Blue tried to block her with a positive aura that seemed to want Mira to carry out her intentions. The two colors that blend together form another color that looks like a bigger and cruel color, making Mira no longer able to open her eyes, but when closing black feels more creepy, it is more, Mira screams as much as she can and asks anyone who can help her out of those weird, annoying colors.
His breath was breathless like a marathon participant who had already explored the ten kilometers journey towards the finish line. His sweat came out very hard, like a source of water in the desert that wanted to give a more decent life there, his eyes were still closed and Mira looked even more scared when she opened her eyes, her body rebelled, she said, he asked for help not to be held in his opinion, but to be kept away from those sin-eating colors.
The sin of abandonment seems to be greater than that of abandonment, and therefore all should shed tears and sorrow, not making anyone happy, because the sin that Mira made enjoyed all those who wanted it. Mira forgets everything that just bothered her after a medic injected fluid into her arm to keep her calm and asleep.
In his long sleep, all the eyes that looked at him like they wanted to devour, especially the heterosexuals who were amazed by the aura of Mira, the smell of roses was no less alluring, although with clothes that are not open but all eyes try to strip Mira in their respective fantasies, hoping to be touched and enter into the body of the sensual Mira.
