OK, I cant help not saying this out loud—which I cannot—so I write it down instead. This is about last week-end I spent in three different cities, but no—hell no—that is not the highlight I’m bringing up here.
Saturday morning, no plan, something under my consciousness triggered me to instant-message a friend from the past. OK, it’s a bit unfair to call this person that way yet it’s overrated to call him more than that.
The convo went smooth and lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. It was started by a stupid small talk, really. No intention to build another bridge between us. Surprisingly, it run for more than 12 hours—although not precisely that long since I was on the way and didn’t always reply right away.
We talked about friends, life, us—both our past and present. Though it’s mostly him who proposed new subject to talk about, it’s me who spiced it up, adding things he didn’t think I was aware of. Effortlessly, as effortless as talking with bestfriend, one thing led to another, speaking one’s mind up—somehow offensively. There were times, more than once, that I felt like he punched me right in the face. I was shocked that this one could talk to me that way after, wait, 7 years of “silence”? Whoa I didn’t imagine it’s been this long, even more, I thought IT was over long time ago. No turning back. What’s done is done. In fact it wasn’t our first attempt but our previous convos run dry and I chose to leave it and step ahead.
Yes, it was weird. I didn’t understand how we did it again last Saturday. It should be awkward. It should be ended within less than 10 lines. He should not be interested in reviving our history. I should not be full of idiocy looking down my smartphone every time it beeped while having an über fun holiday. It should not happen. Yet it did. And everything happens for a reason.
And this is his legendary question that took our convo deeper and deeper on the train from Solo to Jogja.
Him: Whom are you with now?
It was a trap, I know. He didn’t ask about who’s sitting beside me. It took times for me to answer, and I choose this word.
That word seemed like making him more curious about my state of being. Yea, and I wasn’t that stupid not to think that his next lines got “wings”. I got that signal. I just… Idk, reluctant? Being defensive? Or merely playing stupid, I guess.
And guess what? I felt lost within when he stopped replying. It’s not about “who talk last”, it’s more about “did I say something wrong that made him lost his appetite to continue?” clause.
Sunday not-so-morning I couldn’t help it, on my way from Jogja to Semarang I put a wall on my face and called him again. He answered but he got things to do, so he said sorry and would catch me later. He did catch me later.
The talk goes like interview, I mean he looked surprised about things I said and asked me questions as if he’s my dad. When I told him to take it slow, he did it. NICELY. But it made the convo drained. I didn’t figure out why. This time it ended on him.
A bad laugh. And I chose not to keep going on, because it just didn’t feel right. Why that spark comes and go way too easily?
It sucks, you know. To find back an old path you have left, you have forgotten, just to see it fade away one more time, in a wink. And I find myself fucked up because these three days after that stupid talk, I didn’t feel that “emptiness” anymore.
I am scared. I am afraid. He was just nightmare. And I don’t wanna make the same mistake twice. But at the same time I am now not a kind of “nothing to lose”. What if the mistake I did 7 years ago wasn’t letting him in but letting him go? I kinda feel that way. Crap.
God, I need help. I do. Cause the truth is, I don’t feel like giving him up this time. Man, I need the courage to go on, and maybe preparing some pain-killer pills just in case I’m going back with rejection.