If you forget me, don’t look for me, for I shall forget you (Pablo Neruda).
I tried to mend my heart and cope with the messed up mind that was spinning around like a cloud of mountainous village. A Wiseman ever said that to cope with the past, we should turn back to the past. I had done it by strolling memorable places which somehow led me to the bittersweet memories. It was frankly utterly unlikely. Hence, the past is inseparable part of the present and the future. It is like a part of the unit of the book. It has been written and it is irresistible.
I am not shy to say that at that time I just separated from the one I loved. It is, I think, just very bloody human.
The stanzas I quoted from Pablo Neruda above is, believe it or not, correlated with the thing that I am about to write. However, it is very possible that I force myself to correlate the stanzas with the thing I had been through. I simply interpret that we shall not try to forget something because the thing can be forgotten sooner or later without us realizing it.
There are several factors that certainly lead us to forget things; it can be due to aging, timing, or being in amnesia. Well, timing, for me, is the best choice. I don’t want to expect to have amnesia nor being old and having dementia. The latter two probabilities are dreadfully terrifying. Although it needs some times to cope, but when it’s time, it’s time. By timing, I mean sooner or later the more important stuff will cover the least important ones.
I personally believe that trying too hard to forget the bitter memories will in fact lead the person to remember more and more. It means coping is not successful; be cool is the very elegant way. There are of course many errands to be done, thesis should be finished, stomach should be fed, movie should be watched, music should be listened, and a new place should be visited. In short, broken heart is not the only thing that should be dealt with; Hell no. Wake up and move your ass on.
After following the Wiseman saying about turning back the past, it’s time to open mind, step on the new path, and make a brand new story. It genuinely sounds what I call as fuckin’ amazing. The new stories will be more coffees, more books, more travelling, and more friends.
What do you think, then?
The things that came true the first was friend. Like what happened beforehand, I got someone whom I happily declare him as a friend named Daniel Dip, a very crazy person whom I could have more coffee and more travelling at once. This person is typically easy going and not what I call as complicated person.
The second thing after friends is travelling. The first place I visited was a beach called Watukodok. It was not the first choice though. It was a sort of impromptu that we camped there. The place that was actually planned to camp was a beach called Ngandong, a place recommended by one of the camping participants. However, due to some technical problems, Watukodok, then, was the choice.
It was basically very coincidental because at that time I really longed to camp and somebody invited to do so. I agreed to have a camp together with several people that he invited. We both had been very excited; a tent was rent, foods were already bought, and time was already fixed. Technically, everything was well prepared, until one by one cancelled the trip and it was mesmerizing. In other words, it just remained us, the two of us. He was confused at first and asked whether it was okay with me. I simply answered that I even used to camp on the mountain just with a partner or two.
On the d-day, at 15.00, it was, what the F, raining. It was of course depressing since the journey to the beach was a long journey. Yet, show must have gone on and on but the thing was how. Well, it was the thing I liked; he didn’t mind it and we went to the beach like it was nobody’s business.
The morning after, it was my first time waking up by the sea shore. Although it was raining the day before, it was surprisingly a sunny day.
I had a look at my watch; it was 05.30. The sun had risen. I sat on the white sand. Without being exaggerated, the air felt very different when I inhaled it. A moment after that, I turned on the portable stove, and boiled the water to make a cup of coffee. There it was; a cup of coffee, sunrise, white sand, sound of wave, and a good friend right after waking up. There was no way of being ungrateful. It was genuinely a perfect moment although my friend played Lana Del Ray song, Summertime Sadness.
What the hell! But somehow I didn’t take a shit about that. It was my day and I didn’t mind it at all.
It was very refreshing although I felt alienated a bit, but to be frank, I loved the idea of being quite for a moment.
Did I suddenly forget the shit? The answer would be NO. It was not like footprints which were faded away very easily due to the wave. The place, however, gave me clarity to think and figure out my forgotten dream. A moment like that truly illuminated me. By saying illuminated, in addition, meant that I should have gone exploring places I had been before. There was also a sincere feeling to let go like the breeze sweeping the dust away. Then, by the sincere goodbye, there was a whisper from the deep within to say hello.
Goodbye my friend
You had been the one
I am a dreamer but when I wake
You can’t break my spirits
-James Blunt: Goodbye my lover- after being improvised
TO BE CONTINUED.......
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