Ready for a fall

It has been decade since I last write a love poem

It has been a nightmare to cry my heart out

Yet I knew something was about to bloom

Love, heart breaks and despair, what was all about?

 

This is so scary; I thought I would die of scare

You, on the other hand, are as steady as rock

Kept imagining the hurt and pain I can’t bear

When the feelings weren’t even there to mock.

 

What was I running from?

Definitely not you and your hopeful eyes

Definitely not the kiss under the blue skies

Or the times you blew my mind, oh my.

 

Aren’t these feet tired of running?

Isn’t this heart embarrassed enough of hiding?

What am I so afraid for?

That could chase away what I adore.

 

You locked my lips, roused my hair.

Words won’t be enough to impress, you said.

So you showed me the passionate flare.

Never in a second have had I doubted you, I said.

 

No excuses admitted and ever could have allowed

To break someone’s heart.

Neither has mine, which is obviously too proud

To realize it’s a brand new start.

 

Will you give me that lucky charm?

Will you dance with me at the ball?

But most importantly, will you open your arms?

Because I am ready for a fall.

 

 

Love,

May

The Vision and The Expectation

I received this message this morning:

He cancelled his wedding.

Well, it’s not the first time I receive an ‘exciting’ news about wedding cancellation. Nowadays people just don’t perceive marriage like they used to. Marriage and wedding are no more scared, no more personal, becoming shallow and cheap. It’s a sad truth.

I understand being 26 years old and unmarried in Asia could be depressing when all your peers keep posting photos of their babies in facebook. Peer pressured might be the primary reason why people got married out of rush. They get married because other people do that. So they follow.

The ones who cancel their wedding, I consider as the lucky ones. Because they were brave enough to cancel. But hey, that doesn’t mean you’re not wrong! YOU ARE WRONG! If you weren’t ready or you weren’t sure, why did you say yes at the first place? Don’t talk trash about how the diamond rings were sparkling or the moment was right. Fuck it! Just admit that you were WRONG.

So my bestfriend whastapp-ed me this morning, talking about this ‘big’ news, how on earth somebody cancel their wedding? In this case, the reason was “She’s not ready.” Well, I might said it before girl, but if you weren’t ready why did you say yes FOR GOD’S SAKE?

Then it got us to a long conversation that lasted the whole lunch,

Then, how would we know we are ready for a marriage?

Sure, wedding would be fun. All the free drinks, white pretty dress, and all the attention to you would be a great reward for a woman. But wedding wasn’t just a one night thing, it lasted your whole life!

My bestfriend and I share the same feeling about our parents’ marriage. Their marriages failed. And we found out why.

So, basically, we both compare two guys, which I would call as a candidate.

Candidate A is the guy that you could hang out as friend, having fun with and of course a very nice guy. Let’s call him “Nice Guy“ With him, you could create a perfect future. He likely to put your name in his imaginary future. Thus, he is your vision.

Candidate B is the guy that you wanted passionately, comes and goes to your life, and of course the jerk who we’re deeply falling in love with. Let’s call him “The Jerk”. With him, you have a bunch of expectation, and the imagination to achieve those expectations keep you going with him. Because the feeling of achieving something is good, but the fact is you haven’t had achieved it. Thus, he is still ONLY your expectation.

So, when we are facing options with this two guys, we would choose The Jerk over Nice Guy. Why? Because women are idiot. We make decisions based on feeling. AND FEELING IS A BAD GUY!

So, we decided to be with The Jerk and we keep putting our expectation that someday he would change for me. This expectation is a time bomb. Because guess what? He will never change. And the expectation would never be achieved and what’s left is disappointment.

Starting a marriage with expectation is WRONG. You suppose to start it with vision. And only with the Nice Guy you could share this vision. Get it? So 10 years from now, you are divorced with 2 kids and 1 big disappointment. You look back and see this before your eyes:

“Nice Guy = Vision / The Jerk = failed expectation.”

My bestfriend and I see this in our parent. The failed expectations. And that is so unhealthy.

It’s just our simple theory about failed marriage. How would we know, we are never married. But we have this big hope that our marriage won’t be like our parents. We are trying everything we could so we would marry the right guy, with the right reason.

We are 26 years old. Unmarried. Not even plan to. So I can’t make sure the theory is correct.

You see, I receive news of cancelled wedding and even one news of not-even-one-year-anniversary-marriage’s divorce and that made me think… a lot.

I don’t want to get married just because I have been in this relationship for so long, just because thousand of people have been asking ‘when’, just because his mom, his grandmom, and his uncles said so, just because he proposed, just because wedding seems pretty.

I want to get married when I want every morning of my life feeling “Being Mrs. Cahaya is what I want for the rest of my life.” Sounds a little inception, huh? But it’s true. I will get married when I want it just right.

I might still will be unmarried when your kids go to primary school. I might still don’t want it. But life is only once, and I want to do this right, my way.

Me and him might walk so slow in our relationship, but as Confucius said, it doesn’t matter how slowly you go, as long as you do not stop. We don’t stop, we’re just walking slow. And we’re enjoying every steps.

I hope people ‘walk’ more slowly and enjoy the scenery. Don’t rush on something. Take your time for every thing. Who would have thought you’ll find a coin on the floor? =)

Cheers,

May

P.S I wrote about marriage before. In here. And in here.

P.P.S. Hey you, if you read this, please bear with me. Some people might be fast learner. But I’m slow in this thing. I want you. Just you. I know you want marriage. Me too. Just be patience with me.

Hey my future employer!

Thanks for visiting my blog and take a chance with me!

Hire me and I won’t let you down!

Once upon a time in Bandung

Let me introduce you to Bandung, a city situated 768 meters above sea level which make it so cold and breezy, and it could reach up to 17 degrees on the coldest days. Don’t forget to bring your sweater!

I lived once in the north area which has 3 favorite collage and of course my college was the best.

Bandung is an artistic and esthatic city full of youth, because of its famous universities. It’s full of dorms, good (and  cheap) foods and drunk people. :p Bandung is like the Boston of USA, it’s like the Busan of Korea and a Cambridge of England.

I’m so glad I spent my youth there. It was the best four years of my life.

Every faculty will have their own party and events, so every weekend there are surely party to crash. So many of my friends living in different dorms, so when it’s too late to come back to my dorm and the door is locked, I could crash anywhere.

Until I finally moved to this amazing yet spooky house who host 9 crazy ladies, then I knew what home is. It’s not a place, it is people. I had never felt so homey in my entire life.

The house was so huge and old, it felt spooky sometimes. It has a huge garden and balcony so we could make garden party or balcony party or terrace party, wherever and whenever we want to.

I met the love of my life in college, got broken hearted, dumping and being dumped also in college. I was consistently riding an emotional roller coaster and all I could do was yelling, “OWYEAAAAH!”

Braga is a beautiful street in Bandung, the place where he, the love of my life,  took my breath away for the first time.

I worked a temp job at the ticketing booth. It was raining in the afternoon before so the road was wet. I could see the moonlight showering the wet road and it felt so poetic.

Just when I looked down and read my journal, a guy stood in front of my ticket booth, putting a bottle of water and a red rose.

It was my first red rose ever in my life.

Out of the blue, he put a red rose in front of me, took my breath away.

There are moments that you will never forget for the rest of your life, moments that you will tell to your grandchildren. And this moment is one of them.

I made friends, I lost friends, I took chance, I gave up dreams, I learned how to live life, I stumbled a couple of times, I managed to get up, all happened in Bandung, once upon a time.

Bandung is a place I could never get enough for. It’s like an endless addiction I’ll never get bored of, no matter how many times I come back.

Bandung is a medicine of my insanity. Going back there once every some time, keeps me sane, keeps me grateful and happy.

I love being grateful and happy.

Everyone should be.

Well,

Speaking of Bandung, I just came back from there. Yeah!

I took one day leave and spent my long weekend to eat good food and visit one of my best friend at his dorm, just like the old times. He’s still staying in his old dorm, the place I used to crash on, and sleep in when I was bored and tired with my life. He was always be there for me, lending me his bed and he would sleep on the floor.

I’m a super lucky lady to have a best friend like him.

We used to chat all night until we accidentally fell asleep. Everything from relationships, parents, dreams, and life.

This time, I thought I would only had an hour or two hours chat, just to catch up a couple of things. However he’s a lecturer now, holding shining degree and lecturing young people. I thought talking to him would be different. But minutes turn to hours, one bite of Bak kwa to finishing the whole sack, one piece of cigarette to a box.

Trust me, working May is not fun. I never could be awake until this late since I worked! Somehow, that night, I turned back into College May. The fun unbeatable college May.

I had the most fun and amazing college conversation in my 26th age.

That night, I somehow realized, youth is not how old you are. It’s how you act and think. I couldn’t feel any younger now, knowing that, I could always buy tickets and fly to Bandung anytime, drinking my youth juice and being rejuvenated.

I couldn’t tell the details of our conversation coz maybe I would have forgotten 90% of what we talked about. But we always remember the memories, the feeling of that night.

I believe everyone has their own friends who can stay up all night with you just to talk non-sense and giggling together. Those are the moments to remember. And good news is, it’s never too late to re-live the moment.

Nobody is ever too old and nothing is ever too late.

For me, Bandung is my magical city.

It’s the place I met best friends, I studied how to face real life, I did something real for society, I partied hard, I made drunk calls, I had my first kiss, I saved environment, I gave scholarships and received one, I stalked guys, I danced under the moonlight, I had the most amazing birthday in my life, I found what home is, I created my family, and it will be the place where I marry my man.

Well,

Now that I have introduced you to Bandung, the best place on earth, you should pick up a phone to book a shuttle now! Don’t forget to bring sweater!

Love,

May.

If we didn’t grow up…

If I could have one wish, it would be going back to my college times and never grow up.

Keep repeating the times of having fun, skipping classes, eating without getting fat, and dancing all night.

Those are the times when you’re old enough to be in love and yet too young to be responsible.

Ironically the times when you cannot wait to grow up.

You could love as much as you want, and you could lose as painful as you let it.

Those are the nights of hazy drunk calls, sleepovers with girlfriends, and limitless energy to be up all night.

Those are the days of tireless campus events, restless minds of debating your idealism and really did something.

The last chance to invest true friends who doesn’t care what color is your skin and what your parents do.

The last possibility to find a true love, who loves you of what you are, not how much money you have or how big is your boobs.

You were assured that you can do ANYTHING, and you can be ANYTHING you wanted to be.

The times when everyday is perfect.

I wish we didn’t need to grow up…

But we did.

And we made the best out of it, didn’t we? =)

Love, May

Either broke and happy or a hot bath.

Everyone knows the reason I blog less for the last three years is because there’s new invention called micro blog. Yes tweeting has consumed my life. It’s not so much now compared to what it did to me three years ago, but it does still affect me.
However this post doesn’t have to do anything about twitter. I just read a tweet about how people change the way they travel. We all know I love to travel and I have a goal of traveling around Indonesia before I reach 28, southeast asia before I reach 30 and europe before I get married.
I was a backpacker. I only brought one small backpack for a 3 days trip to Jogjakarta with my two lovely friend. We were so broke, we shared one cheap bedroom and we bought a non-aircon 12 hours train ride, which cost about $10 only! One of my friend even slept on the train floor so I could sleep on the hard train seat. Wasn’t she sweet.
We kept waking up every 30 minutes because we werw paranoid that somebody would steal our backpacks.
The Jogjakarta trip was a blast and so damn cheap. We eat an amazing soto mie plus fresh ice orange juice for $1!
We even convinced a becak (3 wheeled rickshaw) to let the three of us sit in one rickshaw which is supposed to fit only two persons and it was one hell of a great ride.

It’s so true that we all are not a truly backpacker. We are a backpacker because we don’t have money but we still want to explore the world. And it’s a good thing because money isn’t supposed to stop us to do ANYTHING.
However we were so broke yet we were so damn happy. I miss that feeling. Squeezing our three big butts on one queen sized beds and having a long tiring train ride which arrives at 6 in a morning but I still went to work at 9 and felt more energized than ever.
I miss my two amazing girlfriends. You know who you are!
Anyway, now that I have a stable work and have a travel funds, I don’t do backpacking anymore. I tend to choose a better hotel with a proper bath and of course tend to spend more money on food food and food. It doesn’t necessarilly mean you are cooler when you were a backpacker. Well it is true that being broke and happy is awesome anyway. But maybe it’s just that now you are more matured (or older, oops) you demand for a better service coz you get tired more easily. (ouch!)
Yes I used to be able to travel with only 3-5 hours sleeping each day and I could still act like an energizer bunny when I was 20, but only 6 years make a whole lot difference or maybe because now I’m a working woman and I get tired easily so traveling is supposed to be my leisure time.
Anyway, being a backpacker or a suitcaser don’t reflect who you truly are. It’s just a matter of the mood you are in when you go to certain places or the amount of money you’ve been saving your ass off to finally purchase that flight ticket. So don’t worry because the way of travel is not absolute. It gets to change everytime.
I would like to have another broke and happy moment with my girlfriends. But now, can I take a hot bath in a five stars hotel please?

Love,
May

I am 25 and homeless.

Remember when you were a little kid and you said “I just wanna go home.” everytime bad things happened?

Why did we do that? Is it because at our home we can do whatever we want to do? Or is it because our home is the most comfortable place on earth?

For me, it is probably because my room was the only place I could be alone and did some major imagination.

Well, actually the first time I got my own room is when I was 15 and it felt AWESOME! From then, I swore I would do whatever I could to live alone, by my self, out of my parents’ house.

I spent my childhood sharing my room either with my sister, my brother, housemaid, or my grandpa. I didn’t do so many things in my room besides writing a diary or daydreaming. I spent most of my childhood times outside the house, chasing kites or playing basketball. Sometimes I feel sorry kids these days spend their times inside playing Nintendo DS. I think my childhood is awesome. I still befriend all my childhood friends until now. I think they are true friends.

Anyway, I didn’t have so many “I just wanna go home” feeling until I reached my teenage years, well my high school years to be precise. I moved to another city for the very first time of my life, out from the only place I’ve known since I was born,Jakarta. Ok, I have a love-hate relationship withJakartauntil now but I was only 15! I left all the friends I knew and was being totally alone in this other city!

I used to go to school feeling “I just wanna go home” then I was home alone most of the times coz my mom went to Jakarta a lot and my dad worked at Jakarta. Only when I was 17 my dad was home everyday because he fell sick.

I was starting a quest to find my home since then. I didn’t fell like I was home. But the only home I’ve known for 15 years had been sold. Where is my home?

My journey after that was very exciting, move houses with my parents, finally move out from my parents’ house to another city again, rent a house with bunch of friends, move back to my parents’ house, and finally move out to Singapore. I’ve been kind of a nomad person.

Yesterday I received a very bad news and I felt like crying and this feeling appeared, “I just wanna go home.”

But where is my home? I don’t even have one.

I never think my parent’s house as my home. It’s just a house I could live in (and I refused to) but it’s not my home. I always try so hard to live further away from my family. It’s just the feeling I have since I was kid. I’ve never been close with my family.

So here I am, in a foreign land, feeling wanna go home, but nowhere to turn to. And that’s it, I realized, I’m 25 and I’m homeless.

These couple of days I’ve been feeling sick, and the “I just wanna go home” feeling is growing even bigger.

I told Bandi about the bad news and he brought me cupcakes. Since this girl I told you before moved out fromSingapore, I only have Bandi here. So it’s like him and me against the world.

It is so true that being home is the best feeling of all. And this awesome feeling is the feel that I have everytime I meet Bandi. So I figure this following quote is true:

 Home is not a place, it is people.

We don’t have house here in Singapore. But we have each other. And I’ll go wherever he wanted to go. He’s my home. And I’m his.

We will have our house someday and call it a home, so the next time I feel like “I just wanna go home” I know where I should go.

But for now, my home is not yet a place, it’s a person. Now it’s still one person, but I hope it’ll keep adding people to it.

 

Love,

May

The Guy With The Scarf

Here I am staring at the moving clouds through this airplane’s window, moving further away from you, leaving you alone, as lonely as my soul now.

You are as free as your green boots could step, I’m a flightless bird. Try living in a conservative culture with a pressure as a man, which you call it privilege while I perceived as a curse.

I remember you kissed my lips while we were arguing about that. You said our time was too short to be used for arguing.

Arguing the things which used to be very important for us. But not anymore since our future is not ours anymore. Now it’s your future. And my future. In two different sentences.

Your face appears vividly in my mind, every single seconds that I’m alive.

Your voice calling my name keeps repeating itself, convincing that I’m crazy.

I swear I would kill just to kiss you right now.

The memories of undressing you, kissing your neck and touch your skin are killing me slowly.

I love you so much I could kill to have you back. I love you that way. You told me it’s wrong. But if it was wrong, the it was wrong all along.

I know you were lying. It’s just something you had to do. I hate that.

You were the best thing that ever happened to me. My life after this is just a social responsibility for my culture and my family. My life was with you, your cheeky smile, your snorty laugh, and your memorable green boots. And my life ended yesterday, at the Orchard Road, by a goodbye kiss and a tear.

I am not a person anymore. I am dead. I am left nothing, but this scent of you on my scarf.

May, Above the Clouds, On the Airplane, January 27th 2012.

That obsessive girl on a green boots need coffee so bad.

Here I am, standing tall in the crowd of the Orchard Road on the Saturday Night feeling lonelier than ever.

I can’t remember when was the last time I walk slowly, when was the last time my hands being held sincerely, when was the last time being sane, and being whole.

I want to dance freely, in the rain, if I could. I wanna feel loved again. I want a cup of ice coffee with just a drop or two of hazelnut syrup and two spoons of milk. That’s a latte. It’d just be easier if I ordered a latte.

I’m heading to the nearest coffee shop now. There are about 7 coffee shops in this one big street but I can’t seem to find it. I’m chasing my comfort and my relaxant from caffeine coz you don’t give them anymore.

I’m broken hearted, more than I have ever been before.

I, myself, broke my heart. Again.

I’ve walked this street for the hundredth times, memories juggling through my mind. You, that scarf of yours that made me warm, myself in your arms and those little sweet pinches on my cheek.

I was a fool of giving my heart away. Of trusting people too much and of a thought that I could actually love someone.

The fact is, I don’t have the capacity to love. I don’t have ability to share my life with someone. or anyone.

Shit! Where is this coffee shop?!

I’ve been going round and checking the directory of this fu**ing building twice but I can’t find it!

I’ve been counting my steps and I hate to stop to check the directory when my step stops at odd numbers. I also hate you.

I also hate the fact that memories of you is more rigid than the picture of you, of us. There are no picture of us.

There’s only this mental picture in my head. keep rolling like a sixty’s movie.

There goes my coffee shop. I can catch my breath now. I can drink my comfort, I can get lost in my fake daydream and I can pretend I’m in love with you again.

 

May, Orchard road, 14th January 2012

 

Your time is now.

Good times is when you read a good book with a good cup of coffee and a good bowl of honey almonds.

Better times is when you play The Sims on holiday without going out of bed and your man cooks for you.

Bad times is when you need to wake up but you’re still sleepy like hell. Worse is when you have the urge to do number two on the long toilet-less road trip.

Happy times is when you achieve things you never thought you could. Happier is when you achieve thing people doubt you would.

Sad times is when your flesh and blood hurt you. sadder is when you cry yourself to sleep, alone.

Lucky is when it is sunny on the day you go to field trip. Luckier is your flight is delayed when you’re accidentally late.

Throw all those times together and that’s life. One time is not worth without the other. One time completes the meaningfulness of the others.

Life is about all those times. The times we might not always cherish, but will always remember. Time will never go backwards, thus all we can do is cherish what we have NOW. Coz your time is now.

 

Have an amazing 2012.

Love, May.