the song— is that the song that we used to hear? the one that we always crazily sing along even though we don’t know the whole lyrics?
the place— ah, isn’t it also the place that you used to take me in? you said that was the first time you take somebody to your private space.
oh, wait— that face, i recognize that face! isn’t it your friends? you used to introduce me to them, and how proudly you shaped a smile on your face while hugging my waist saying, "this is my girlfriend, the woman of my life".
do you understand how lonely my world is, but is always crowded with the ghost of you?
do you understand how impossible and possible it is to survive without knowing how and who?
do you even understand how it’s been forever but i am still here, without any sign to take a definite step?
do you even, just for once, understand, that i am clearly still in love with the idea of you?
run through fingertips,
a peck on rosy cheeks,
write each other a love letter,
talk about constellation,
just you, in general.
your brain is a part of your body,
so does your heart.
you control them, not them controlling you.
you are the captain of the ship, got it?
you control you, nobody has the privilege to do it even if it’s your own body parts.
when we are about to fly to the moon— the universe rapidly turned the night into day.
when we are about to sightseeing the seaside— the universe created a tremendous wave from the ocean.
when we are about to inhale the pure air— the universe gave us a chaotic windstorm.
you are like an asetaminofen and i am like your alcohol,
when we meet, we’ll explode and our place will be nothing but ashes.
i am curious what kind of discussion that the universe has made with the destiny?
are we fooled? or we aren’t fooled?
whatever discussion that created by the universe and the destiny, i hope it will be fair for both of us.
i have ever been in so many battlefield.
a fight with parents whenever i am being out of their rules,
a fight with teachers whenever i accidentally sleep while they are explaining the lesson,
a fight with friends whenever we have a different opinion about some certain things,
a fight with pets whenever they bite my paper that its deadline has settled,
a fight with strangers whenever i unconsciously bumped into them and the coffee they hold messed their favorite shirt,
i have been through them all.
but one thing that i have never been winning of is a battlefield with my inner self.
i fight with an abstract idea of mine,
who to fight? how to win? what to achieve?
who? how? and what? again, who? how? and what, exactly?
"among all the option you could possibly do— why do you choose to write?" he asked.
"because i love writing about you," she answered, alongside with a smile plastered on.
— The End —