I remember your shades of blue,
just like you wore your favorite jeans.
How could you love a yellow in me,
out of thousands of beautiful hues out there?

It hits me, and the memories start.
Car rides out of town,
fast food for supper,
your obsession over ice sweet tea and your favorite local sports team,
breakfast I made,
walking in the rain with my yellow coat while you soaking wet,
or when you promised to take me to your fave martabak parlor.
Or when our friends tried to pair us every time. No.
We haven't been there yet, have we?

You were surprised by how I love fries dipped in a mcflurry,
but then you loved it.
Countless midnight we breathe each other jokes,
or when you told me about your future you worried.
About promises, we are going to break.
Twice, I loved and love two souls.

You gave me your love and I let them die.
In between ice cream and books and your sweet disposition,
I did awful things, didn't I?
We haven't spoken since I went away.
Twice, and you are still there.

They said you will fall in love until it hurts, or bleeds,
or fades in time.
But I wish you knew that
I'd never forget you as long as I'd live.

It's 3 o'clock in the morning,
awaking in a distant land from where I called home.
Too far, to be gone,
I am here at last.

It's 3 o'clock in the morning,
who needs some rest in the city that never sleeps?
So I toss my sleeping pills onto the window,
for I am no longer walk absentmindedly in a labyrinth.

It's 4 o'clock in the morning,
too much noise from the roommate's snore to block.
I quietly closed the door behind me,
escaping the confusion and worries away.

It's 4 o'clock in the morning,
as I walk to the mighty Brooklyn Bridge.
Stand still gracefully in between two places,
ignoring what goes and going in life.

Come, morning light, I whispered to myself,
flaneuring in the middle of serene darkness.
Hoping the light will come,
on this endless pavement.

It's 4 o'clock in the morning,
as I do recall those nights wishing I was here.
In the state of peaceful mind,
overjoyed for searching the rhymes of my heart.

It's suddenly 5 o'clock in the morning,
time to go home.
With a crimson tinted sky above my head,
the sun appeared and it was a brand new day.

A wise old man said
love comes in many forms.
It's more than meets the eye.
They died in the name of love,
to search for the meaning,
to love,
to love deeply,
to love faithfully.

It takes 21 years to finally learn what love is.
Love is,
having the courage to start over.
Love is,
something that keeps knocking your door up even though you've been hurt, drowned by love.
Love is,
trying to reach out after you've been assaulted.
Love is,
forgiveness to yourself when you know it is not your fault.
Love is,
clean and pure.

I also learn that love
is when my friends skipped a class for me when I need a shoulder to cry on.
Is when she didn't mind being in her office late during our lunch conversation.
Is when my friends took care of me when my tummy hurts like hell during our road trip.
Is when my friend let me sleep on his shoulder even though I'd broken his heart.
Is when my friend was still answering my phone when they knew I have chosen the wrong guy three years ago.
Is when not complaining while giving me a ride home.
Is when they are up for a 2 a.m confession.
Is when having bakso together til our tummy exploded.
Is when they made me laugh while I was crying.
Is when he gave me books for my birthday present, in a blue box wrapped with yellow paper.
Is when our cheeks and tummy hurt after some bad jokes.
Is when they gave some warm hugs.
Is when they knew that I sometimes made bad choices and chose to give me a harsh-slap truth but still stood by my side.

And since last summer,
Love loves to sing me songs with his guitar, from Nat King Cole's to Stevie Wonder's to John Mayer's.
Love introduces me to his cousins.
Love knows that I love soy latte, yoga, and swimming.
Love is being trusted by Bunda dan Ayah.
Love drives miles to see me back and forth.
Love loves to make me fat when I'm sick.
Love is hanging out with my sister and treating her like his younger sister.
Love is getting along with your best friends.
Love knows why I always choose warm mineral water to drink.
Love lets me sleep when he is driving.
Love hugs me tightly and kisses my forehead.
Love teaches me to learn how to bike.
Love doesn't complain when he sees me during sick days, no bath days.
Love says sorry and means it.
Love is not oversharing on social media, but really living it up.
Love understands when I took time for myself.
Love is accompanying me to the libraries even though he doesn't like books as much as I do.
Love knows I always get sleepy because of lack of it or it is because I take some meds.
Love tells me that everything would be okay, and said he'll be there.
Love also makes mistakes.
But I learn that love
does not always have to be hurt all the time.
Love is not letting me cry myself to sleep.
Love is solving problems before I go to sleep.
Love is not always helping me do the tasks,
but love encourages me to make me believe that I can do it, go to New York City, and live up to my dream.
Love is growing together side by side.

But the most precious parts are,
love is giving me a ride to school since middle school.
Love offers me to take sessions with a therapist.
Love inspires me.
Love cooks masakan padang really good.
Love obsessed with cleanliness.
Love is learning to apologize when they made mistakes even though they are way older than I am.
Love gives me the harsh truth about the real world is messy, but it is okay to start over.
Love hugs me tightly after a month of not seeing each other.
Love is throwing bad jokes.
Love is singing in the car and doesn't care if it's terrible.
Love is loving me unconditionally for 21 years.
Love is loving me patiently.
Love is loving me faithfully.

It was a mid summer night,
when it happened.
With His goofy smile and my red kebaya.
   I'm so clumsy, said I
   I'll show you, I hate dancing but we should do this, said He.
It was the moment I knew that he was a good dancer while in his embrace.

It was a mid-summer day
when I learned about him.
He loves poetry, hates to talk in public, and studies political science.
    What are the odds, I found you in the middle of these people, said I
    We were a thousand miles away, but we're here now, said He
It was the moment that I found someone who look at the world exactly like I do.

It was a mid-summer day,
in a museum full of fragile.
He talked about his love of aircraft, like a kid describing a candy factory. I couldn't take my eyes off of him.
   Come on, walk with me, and I'll show you the universe, said He
It was the moment when our lips locked.

It was the last morning of mid-summer,
He with his sleepy gaze with two plates of waffles in his hands,
and I'm ready to leave.
   I hope to see you again soon, said I
   You're the most wonderful person I've ever bumped into, said He
and at that moment, I knew He'll always be my favorite summer fling.

For countless days, they had loved me as a shadow.
Seeking pleasure ignored my skin and bones.
But truly they never found the seed that grows.

For years, I've been living in men's juvenile illusions.
Fabricated by floral dresses they had always fancy,
sunshine, and contagious laughs.
But they haven't tried to read between the lines.

They kept me as their own good luck charm,
but never as a frantic soul.
Stitched by scars and ghosts,
hadn't seen me drowning from old anchors.

When the time had come,
they chose to let it bygone.

So love,
Before you try to confess,
be sure of something:
It is but a shadow and a thought that you love

There was something more
in your eyes
the way you looked back at me,
with the rain
gently falling,
and the wind
softly calling.

There was something more,
with your sweet disposition
and my wide-eyed gaze,
the smell of coffee
and its steam clouded in the air,
your jokes who never failed,
and a new company,
the way you offered your shirt
and your worried eyes.

There was something more,
but whatever it was
made the butterflies in my stomach
dance in a way
they have never danced before.

And for a moment,
I was okay;


I was happy again.

Today,
I'm writing again.
This time is not for you,
nor for my past sadness
that consumes
and kills the light in my eyes.

Today, this morning,
I looked up to the sun.
And I knew without asking
because there are things that can not be seen.

Boy, you know the less you learn.
What goes unsaid doesn't go unheard.
So today I'm writing again,
to remind you that everything healed,
eventually.