Far before you leave me for something that you called as a real life, we used to go here, do you remember?
At that time, I used to ride my noisy truck so we need to shout when we talked. When we were arrive, I remember you were craving for the Old Man’s fried chicken. I couldn’t help but say yes because I never want you to put that grim face all day. After that, we were visiting a post cladded with blue tarpaulin along the perimeter. Behind it, hundreds of gift coupons were ready to be hooked by the fishing rod. You were rushing to take a rod and start waving it with your skinny arms. When you successfully hooked one, you turned to me and show off your tiny teeth.
When the sky was completely dark and the place was getting more crowded, you were pulled my hand to a grass field. I saw many people sitting on scraps of newspapers while enjoying their companies. They were laughing so hard when the big white screen in front of them were showing the scene of a woman swing a stick to her guy friend’s collarbone. Then, we joined them. Do you remember, shower rain were coming an hour later and we scattered instantly, protected our heads with the newspapers, and jogged around to find a shelter?
Years later, this place was gradually changed into businesses. No more Old Man’s fried chicken, or the blue-tarpaulin-post. The big white screen also never comes by in the grass field anymore. Everything has changed, including you. I remember you showed up with your playful smile while I tried to finish my book. “We need to talk,” you said. You told me that you would travel to places that I barely know how to pronounce the names. You said that you were sick of this city and you want to live close to the nature and no more be a money chaser. I called it utopia. You called it real world. “I will live my own life, I am not you.” End of conversation. If you know how powerful the Tsunami that ever crashed Aceh to pieces, so was my heart . You were gone.
You, the owner of that playful smile to melt my heart down, how are you doing there? It has been years, don’t you miss me? I am sitting in the grass field right now. I was here all day just waiting for something I knew that would never happen. The sun is about to set and this place is getting more crowded. It is start to rain and people are scattered instantly, protecting their heads while jogged around, as we used to, to find a shelter. Well, I should too, but I can no longer do that.
“Your legs are not agile as before. When was the last time you support me on your back while running?”
“Hi, Dad. How are you?”
It is you.
Originally published at adinwardhani.tumblr.com.