The Diary Ecca

Part 45's

...Roman Picisan's...

The voice had not disappeared and grew louder in my ears, then I got up and ran back down the stairs and went to the ground floor.

And stopping in the music room, I opened the door that I saw was a little open, but it wasn't there, only I found a CD that lit up and played David's acoustics.

I looked around the music room there was no one, no one, I approached and there was a piece of paper on the CD that read thanks to your smile I hugged the paper and cried.

ooooo

Not the story of Romeo and Juliet whose story is written and also filmed, nor about the famous Rama and Shinta. Not a rich man, just an ordinary man, not a writer but just someone who wants to express every feeling through the verse of words and also the ink scratches that I pour with my heart and feelings.

The sweetly written annual temple of my love story with him that sits in the courtyard of love together with my heart that is always ringing with the whisper of his love so sweet, so sweet, indefinitely revealed but I can't say. I'm just someone who adores him in the distance, I'm just someone who tries hard to stay loyal to him even if I'm just behind the distance, don't ask me how I feel if you can't move on from the past that haunts you because it's so unfair.

The splashing sound of the rain rushing from the drops to the sound of a loud, not enough one but thousands of puddles of water swept over my shoulders and drenched me, not enough one, I just fell silent while letting every puddle of rain and also the boisterous sound of the wind blow fiercely on my face. I'm a nobody, I'm not the director who made my documented life journey into a movie. Even in the crowd I was still alone and feeling lonely, like there was only a firefly accompanying me in the silence. I'm just me and not him, let me keep this feeling at a distance because maybe you're not for me and maybe this feeling will one day go away on its own.

Not someone who is good at stringing words, not a psychic who is able to express words, not the predecessor who is able to say words, and not the painter who is able to draw words. Every despair paints a word, every thing provides information about the journey of life and every time will scratch ink about the meaning of happiness and also sadness.

"Is Lo happy?" I don't know just words written with question marks, not firmly not elegant. Just want to be someone who is as special in front of him, even though I am not a perfectionist who deserves to be flattered. I'm being selfish, he shouldn't be a part of my life story when he's not a part of it. My move is stopped but I don't want this to be just a story about me and him, in fact now there is not only me but also there is him.

Though again delicious nulis disturbed, sebel. My habit of writing in my diary and doodling until my book is full and also my pen ink is exhausted, taking notes and writing is my habit, whether since when I like writing, or not, I just like writing books compared to others because every ink stroke I write is like the meaning of my life is shy and limitless.

Friendship is like cotton candy is very sweet, there is a sense of love, memories and also longing even there is also a sense of jealousy of betrayal and silly things. Yes that's friendship, sometimes crisp like crispy kayak, and like freshly peeled salted beans. That your best friend? Have a taste of what?.

I just want you to know that even in the distance I'm always there for you, even though all the love I give may not be as great as the sacrifice you make for me.

If you remember the time you have spent with friends, everything must be fun, right? Although fights often color the friendship between you and him, but the feelings of annoyance and anger will be quickly replaced and never feel at home for long lodged in the heart.

Disputes there must be differences there must all happen because we are friends to help each other and need, remember about used paper? The old paper under my desk contains good memories with you my best friend, my best friend blasphemy splattered on me the problem came to me but you my best friend never complained to encourage me.

Then I heard someone enter the music room, and I turned back to see Brother Fikri, he immediately rushed to run towards me.

"Ca!.. Why are you?, what happened?" Ask.

I just cried and hugged her without hesitation, because maybe she knew I was in need of someone at a time like this she let me hold her. We went out and sat in the park, the campus was still not so crowded.

"You why Ca?... Can you tell me the same story!" His word.

"I don't know brother, love can make me like gini, I want to meet him and say everything I feel, whatever response he I will receive, I want to meet him, it's the only way I can calm down" I told Fikri's sister.

"It hurts Ca... but believe me that if God has predestined it for you then he will meet you with him without you asking him to come alone, as you once told me?" fikri's advice and he smiled at me.

"Who's the guy that made you like this?" Ask.

I looked at him, I was afraid that if I answered I would hurt him, I just kept quiet and turned my eyes away.

"Cause Ca.. say it, I'm not papa, we're friends, should we cover each other up after I express all my feelings to you" he said.

Then he stroked my head, which reminded me of David's habits.

Every time I wait for you, time goes slower for me, night goes slower, day goes slower, wall clocks move slower, age gets slower, time goes slower, and when my heart beats faster than the speed of light by the desire to meet you.

There is happiness that I feel along with love and also every thing that I imagine with it I feel that God is always with me taking care of me and also protecting me, therefore I am strong and happy.

ooooo