Missing piece.

















Night flown in seamlessly, as I watched the universe transcending from chef du jour of sunset into pitch dark.
Ever so smoothly, languorously, as I trotted along the concrete pavement.
That night I decided to walk home.

Years back then, I have meditated by literally walking home. I haven’t done it again for quite sometimes since it’s been succeeded by cool Nestea plunge.
As I walked out of the building, I thought, hey, why not now?
The dark curtain had just been pulled down, inviting me to explore her more, inquisitively whispering even as if asking me to step into the boudoir.
Thamrin and Sudirman scene couldn’t be more congested and bustling, but I found myself jammed in a blasé situation, which were pleasant.
The muted emotions were there, hung around the speckles of bright shining stars.
As if they were waiting to be picked and pondered upon.
Well after few miles, I did.
I sat down at one rombong rokok to cool myself with the ever sought after Teh Botol =p

Life has been one state play lately.
I ran, squatted, ducked, jumped, ran again I haven’t had much time to think about anything else.
My parents had complained, of course, and since I firmly believe in family bond – yes, with the exception of family bonds, every little thing in the world are subject to substitute – I managed to spend time with them on weekends.
Dating life wasn’t exactly florist shop situation – as I’ve mentioned in the earlier post – but wasn’t high and dry either since I kept few handy, uhm, handkerchiefs – mind you – to wipe the tedium off.
My writing project has been constantly put on stationary bike for quite some time. I made a mental note to revisit it shortly.
And I still managed to stay in touch with my closest friends – randomly, to keep it exciting and yes, grounding me at the same time.

And then I thought about him.
For awhile ago he had been the last thought in mind before lucid dream upstages.
It was the kind of short and sweet fling and I didn’t put too much time thinking about it and ways if it could be improved – since both he and I are realist, let’s put it this way : it will never work because none of us wants to.

But.
Maybe it was the sickly sweet Teh Botol.
Maybe it was romance that were brought by the quiet night of quiet stars.
Maybe it was my guilty pleasure.
Maybe the meditation worked after all.
At that moment, I opened the locked up chest involuntarily and found him again.

And then I couldn’t help it. For a moment I let myself loose.
I let him fill in my head - and yes, heart - for just few moments and it felt… good.
I missed him, and the petty small stuffs that we’ve had for quite some time.

All the unfinished conversations, the unanswered questions, the drafted email, the unsent text messages… the deleted person just sprung back and I just missed him so much.
Like the desert miss the rain.
As it was a hot, humid evening indeed.
And I used to announce my missing piece only when it’s raining, to him.

Hell, how could you miss someone whose face you can’t remember?

As I lighted my cigarette, I looked up, inspecting the achingly clear sky.
I picked a spot and wished he’s doing well.
I wondered if he ever think of me.
Or if we ever picked the same star.

Then an inevitable thought seeped in. It’s that thought that we’d find each other again one day. In whatever pool we’re supposed to get in.
The rombong rokok owner greeted me, liberating me from my thoughts of him.
That was my cue.

I squashed down the unfinished smoke, put down the empty Teh Botol and paid.
I threw him thank you as I hailed a cab.
I could recall sleeping in that cab soundly and being woken up by the driver just when I arrived home.
Just before I stepped into the house, I thank The Guy Upstairs for all the wonderful things He has drenched me in.

Only then I realized just how precious life is.