Semusim Love

If you're never anything

You see friends and they've got dreams. While you're still dumbstruck, holding onto hope. Slowly, in your heart you said, “When did my dream come true?”

During the journey to reach the destination, sometimes you look around. Or, you compare it to someone else. And forgot to continue the journey.

Is it true that all your efforts and efforts have been melted together with the disappointment that you built yourself? Does something you only see online really make you feel like nothing?

(If we never become anything : Alvi Sharir)

****

A bright morning, birds singing, the wind saying good morning, oh how wonderful life is. But that doesn't apply to me at all. I don't even know where my life started, whether it was a sunny morning, or a night or an afternoon.

"Bundaaa...y want eek!!!"

"In the meantime, you'll go back to fritters later on gosongg!! I screamed while holding the pain because the hot oil splashes on the skin.

Adek had walked to the WC while grumbling, he was two months away in four years, but his chatter was merciful. Not to mention I followed my youngest son to WC, the brother who this year entered SD, screaming.

"Snack, spout!!!"

"Abaaang maui!!!"

Klenteng....

Geck...Geck...

Prangggg...

The sound of the pot falling to the floor and the rice coils being hit to the WC door, it was a fuss.

That's how my morning started, beautiful isn't it??... And that's every day. While my husband, oh yes, Dennis was taking a shower early in the morning and was getting ready for work, he was a lecturer at a university in our city.

Me being? Well, I'm just a housewife with a working area not far from the well, kitchen and mattress. It's not really my dream at all.

I'm thirty next month. I saw my college friends had success with their careers, got good jobs, even some went to college again, attended this seminar, traveled here and there.

While I, keep walking in place, every day take care of dirty clothes, make sure the husband and children eat what side dishes today, oh no more precisely husband, son, in-law and sister-in-law. Don't forget that we're still hitchhiking at the in-laws' house.

My furthest official trip is to take my children to school, my best official clothes negligee that sometimes has been torn in the armpits, which of course I have been sewing even though not perfect.

I often say, "when am I like them?" who can laugh at the office, wear high heels, blazers, makeup, carrying a briefcase, darting away to reach dreams or continue dreams, studying as high as the floor of a neighboring house whose level is already four.

Huffhh, it's not that I'm not grateful. I am grateful for my life now, so grateful. But, there's a tap, man...

Sometimes I am saturated too, I am saturated with my stagnant life, saturated with a monotonous husband, saturated with children with behavior that sometimes makes my feet on the head and head legged.

Saturated have to clean up their own house while sister-in-law who has entered college this year but still does not want to help even if only sweeping the house. Saturated if all admistration and family finances are stopped in-laws. In essence I'm saturated as a maid in this house.

"As we move yuk, we misah from here, ngcontract cake, rent a boarding cake?" I said as we got into bed, getting ready for bed.

"Why? mom's making a storm with mom, huh? or the same Ica?" No, again Dennis is not proud.

"No, no fuss with anyone."

"Well why ask to move?"

Seriously, this man asked at the same bar postkamling, he never thought that the family should be misah from parents, if I was that, had heard his lecture ustad in the mosque.

"Tippy, this house is already in the name of a. Mama equally papa has moved the ownership of this house to the mas, while Ica got a house in Bogor." Mas Dennis looked at me with his sharp black bead.

Well it is undeniable, this man does have very beautiful eyes, anyone who is stared at like that in a matter of three will be instantly clamps.

One...

Two..

Three...

No, I can't dwell, and there's no other choice for me, but to survive. Surviving the salary of Dennis who is always divided by three, for me, his mother and Ica, his favorite sister in the world. Survive if love is not for me. I'm fine, because a man's heart is forever for his mother.

Until at any time, the wife cannot match the mother in the heart of a man, because the position of the mother occupies the highest place that is indisputable, already in the scriptures. And right now we're not talking about that.

What I discussed, when Dennis was more obedient to the request of his beloved sister, rather than his own wife. It feels so bad.

"For example, if you're paying, buy me this brand skincare package, yes, complete no night cream, day cream, facial same toner?"

What ?? I didn't hear wrong, did I? the Ica asked my husband? something that's nearly five hundreds of thousands? while I was wearing the powder of a million people, the powder of my baby sow that was bought at the bik Rosyidah stall for not ten thousand.

I sighed in disbelief, really. My chest is crowded if it is this way, and Dennis is so unfortunately, even though he wants Ica, although never the man took from his salary money.

Mas Dennis had other income, he was active in various tabloids as a freelance writer and had cooperation with several publishers as well. And the special envelope he got from there, I never asked.

To be continue

Healthy all dear readers yes...

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