Monday, July 31, 2017

It was a good day.

 

Kemarin lalu saya nemu buku catatan kecil yang nyelempit di belakang tas. Saya ingat pernah membelinya untuk mencatat hal-hal yang perlu diingat, seperti daftar belanjaan, download-an drama, harus ngopi film apa aja kalo ke warnet, and other miscellaneous things. Buku catatan ini sempat menghilang, tapi saya tidak ingat pernah berusaha untuk mencarinya. Buku ini saya biarkan mengembara. Entah jatuh di balik lemari atau katut terbuang bersama seplastik sampah, saya tidak begitu peduli.

Namun kemarin lalu saya menemukannya lagi. Saya buka-buka lembarannya dan menemukan coretan acak daftar belanjaan, juga ada catatan persiapan tes CPNS. Ah, batin saya. Buku ini pasti memutuskan hilang sekitar tahun 2015. Not a good year, batin saya. Pantas kalau kamu ingin minggat.

Lalu di lembar-lembar terakhir saya nemu catatan panjang sekali. Penuh coretan. Pun tak runut. Waktu saya baca, isinya seperti diari. Namun kemudian saya mengernyit. I sounded rather happy here. Kok bisa?

2015 was hell. I find it fascinating that I could find the time to write pages of what I was feeling at that time. And I was not sad!  

Saya coba untuk mengetik ulang apa yang saya tulis di buku catatan kecil tadi just so that I can remember. 
Even in my darkest time, I still can find something to be thankful for. Yes, I was not happy, but I also wasn't sad. When you have a bad impression of something--whether it's a moment, a person, something- and you think about it for a long long time, sometimes they turn worse in your head. Without you knowing. They become bigger monsters than they actually are. You hate and are afraid of them more and more, when in reality (perhaps) they aren't actually that bad.
***

Today, for the first time in a few months, I feel so alive. So grateful to be alive, to be exact. Nobokov's Lolita on my lap, the cast of sunshine on my skin and the February breeze stroked my veil gently. I fall deep in silence, trying to observe my surrounding. And I thought how selfish I am for not realizing the beauty of this amazing mundane life.

I might not be in the best chapter of my life. I'm unemployed. I still haven't found my road yet. I'm confused and suffocated. But here I am. Breathing. Feeling. Alive.

As I look at my juniors' smiley faces, I start to wonder, "Were there times when I felt that happy?" The beginning of a semester. A new start. A new blank page. How exciting was that? To see your peers again after a long holiday. And then found out that the class was canceled and you have the rest of the day free. The February sky was also unusually clear (today). What's not to be happy about?

Sometimes I miss moments like that. To be so ignorant of the future. Enjoying the present. Busy being young. Not afraid to be broken. In no worry of recklessness. Sometimes I regret for not treasuring the seemingly unimportant moments like that. For being so unaware of how exciting and enjoyable youth is. For not appreciating my friends better. For not remembering their laughter and kindness and companionship properly. Our journey is buried in the box named "PAST". And I can't recover them. Forever. It's sad. It is. But that's life.

Now, if we try to talk realistically, being young is sometimes not equal to being fearless. As far as I remember, I have always been afraid of being broken. I was also worried of my future. I was actually TOO enjoying the moment, the guilty pleasure of laziness, the not-doing-anything memorable kind of events, that sometimes I forgot I was so living in the present, I never worried whether I'll feel the pressure of not remembering this moment in the future.

It's easy to dramatize your adolescence really. Because being young sometimes remind you of the bliss in learning new things. For example: how to cope with a broken heart. For some reason I always love the feeling of helplessness when I'm brokenhearted. The pain. The urge to be dramatic. It's all so cinematic. I always feel like a character inside an indie movie. 

I was lying when I said I write better when I was heartbroken. I write sad things better, yes. But writing lovey-dovey things when you're aching for the presence of someone else, is not an easy thing to do. This is why I always think I'm not a good writer. Sometimes I'm too honest. I started describing my own feeling. 

To be a good story teller you need to be an amazing liar. And lately I found myself fell in the pit of horrid honesty that I couldn't escape from.

All in all, I am happy today. I'm happy at the moment. I like being lost in the crowd. Writing this and listening to foreign songs.

The sky is blue, the storm has passed, and the leaves falling elegantly in front of my bench. It's all perfect. Happiness should look like this. 

For the first time in a few month, this is me --the once shattered soul-- enjoying the present.

And also for the first time in a long time, I finally can say, "I enjoy being alive."


***

Note: 

I'm really sorry for this sappy, cheesy and cringy trash xD Udah alurnya nggak jelas. Kadang nggak nyambung. Penuh kontradiksi sana sini. I also wasn't paying attention to grammar at all. Mungkin waktu itu saya cuma pengen nulis. Nggak peduli ejaan bener apa salah, grammar cemang-cemong apa nggak. Guess I was just too happy for being happy. Jadi saya ingin abadikan :D

It must have been a really good day kalau sampai saya tulis begini. Karena pada dasarnya saya nggak biasa nulis diari atau jurnal secara manual. Karena saya selalu gatel pengen ngecek apakah ejaan saya salah apa bener, grammarnya gimana, blablabla xD Saya nggak ingat sih  hari itu ada apaan, but it must have been a really good day.

It was a good day.

:)