to build one we would feel familiar on

Sitting still in frustration, I bring my hand to stroke my shoulder-length hair I recently colored brown. My computer is now shuttled down as I reach for my other belongings and get ready to go home. It was another long day today too, I said to myself in a low tone one as I greet goodbye to anyone in this room.


“I’ll wrap it all up here today, you guys too, should now get prepared to go home. Happy weekend, everyone.”


The elevator is long and contains of no one. So I lay my head on the wall and start to feel the air fill in my lungs — later that I find myself wondering around: was it because of the still atmosphere and the a bit too hot weather or the too-exhausted body of mine that I suddenly missing the touch of home?


They said to be all grown-up was the greatest thing that would ever happen but, why am I feel quite the opposite in every day passed on? It’s like the more I push myself to walk and stand, the more I feel like my whole body’s continuously fading and bland. There are no more places I could bring myself to stay, I’m stray and stray, day by day.


I took the shortest way home — the one I’ve been long for. Even if it wasn’t much to compare of what I got back in hometown. Even if most of the time, it’s too quiet and looks like the people inside are always gone. It’s still — and always be the only place I’d dare to spare my heart on. It will always be the only place I’d dare to put my loves one.


As well as I had expected before, I found my apartment in such darkness that oddly enough to give the relief of warmth. And more of it’s running through my bloodline when I found yourself on the couch of really light brown. You’ve already fallen to your dreams , and you too, probably already catching up with those you’re always missing. And I wonder if I was one of them.


I take some light steps closer. Collecting your belongings around that you’re, perhaps, too tired to put on their place as it should have and manage to sit down. I sit on the carpet and watch you sleep so little in sound. I sit and watch you so carefully as I am scared I may wake you up suddenly. I look at your face thoroughly that I let my eyes running in per-inch of it so slowly. The dark circles of your undereyes that tells me how much you too, have been lacking sleep lately. The smooth wrinkles on the forehead of yours that, once again tells me how you’ve tried your very best to put on life recently.


So I smile as my hand slowly brushing your hair. It still is as smooth as it was much back then that I realized how far we’ve got to manage it every year: it really is such a great thing to have you so close and near. I wonder if we chose to give up on our future. I wonder if I won’t ever get the chance to be here and recall the past as much as I could ever remember: that maybe this is exactly what people thought of things called destiny.


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We were so much on the contrary. You were the little boy that everyone in the neighborhood loves to see. You were sweet and polite and everything compared to me. Well, truthfully speaking, even now I’d still find that little kid in the shape of you so dearly. We would tag along with each other everyday because no one wants to really play with me — well, yes I was the one who was tagging you along everywhere you go technically.


My mom would always greet you so happily. My dad too, he would love to get you the latest release of hotwheels than to buy me the Barbie doll I wanted so badly. I wasn’t really mind actually. Because you were ten back then, but I never got to see your parents in the house every time I went there. I was nine and innocent, so I asked you what about your sister, then? You said not everyone in the world was born with a sibling after them; just like me as I told you about my brother. It was such anew to me that later on, I’d always brought my brother to play along.


But on that one sunny day when the weather is just as hot as everyday while it is summer. Only both of us who played together. We were sitting on the grass that felt as if it was continuously tickling me — you were not because you were standing and busy. That morning I ran to your house — that felt just as cold and lonely — so rushy. I asked you to come and play a game called: let’s braid my hair nicely. You refused the idea at first, saying you never had a sister so you didn’t know how to do it — even the one that would look bad for me. Though, I said I wouldn’t mind as my mom said I would always look pretty.


“You should have just asked your brother, he’s so good at braiding hair.” You weren’t literally protesting, I knew that you were just feeling bad knowing; compared to my brother’s made, yours is nothing.


“I changed the game title already, though. It’s no longer “let’s braid my hair nicely” it’s now called, “let’s just braid my hair.” So I didn’t really mind if it looked good or not. Or, do you want a game for you too? I think I can braid your hair, I played so many times with my doll.” I could hear you were sighing tiredly, probably because you’re so done listening to my never-ending chitchats that were out so randomly.


“That wasn’t what I meant by that. Did you fight against your brother?” Your question was successfully putting a pout on my face that I later started boo-ing you annoyingly. I just hate the idea that it is always so easy for you to see right through me. I couldn’t keep a lie within me — my mom said it was a good thing though I didn’t really think it was as I disliked it every time you got me.


“It’s just that as if my mom and dad were to comply and defend my brother and I’m left alone and everyone started to take out the blame on me. Well, I know I was wrong yet, later they started to blame me on things I didn’t even do, that was why I’m sooo upset.” Ugh, maybe I should have just cut it short back then. I wasn’t really sure if you were listening to me but, then I feel like you were done with the braids that later managed to ask me just one more thing.


“So, are you mad at them? Do you hate it, that no one is going to your side and even choose to take the blame on you?”


“Of course I am mad ….” My sentence wasn’t yet done at the time I chose to put the gap on. Quite for a while, none of us feel like we got something to say to one another that I start to playing the grass beneath me and you plucking the flowers we don’t really know the name actually.


And later I said, after a long and deep sigh, “Well, I’m not mad at them. Yes, I was hurt by them, maybe more often that I can’t manage so much to remember. However, instead of putting the blame and bombing them down, I, mostly want to be kind and understand. Despite all I could ever feel is their hate, I’d rather think they’re just too scared. You know, it’s hard for being all grown-up and have so much on your shoulder.” I was releasing a sigh and laugh at the same time.


Just as I could feel your hand on my braided hair, patting me slowly as your mouth saying that I have grown so much and that I was so mature — too mature for my age. And we laughed just because. Isn’t it just so great to think about the old days when life wasn’t given our shoulder too much?


“Do you want to have a family too, in the future?” I know I wasn’t sure why I asked you that, but seeing you not reacting much, I thought it could be just okay.


“I don’t know, I’m not quite familiar with the thing people called family. It’s just so strange to have it within me.” I wondered if you knew that you were, too, even more mature for your age. I don’t even really understand some things you said but I still managed to answer it at such a light speed.


“Then just build one with me. I’m convinced I’m more familiar with that thing, so it’s okay, I can teach you, you can count on me.” I was so sure that my words would feel so reassuring. Still then all I heard is you laughing, and say the thing that made me doubt all of your saying:


“You’re just nine.” Ha! So it did right that boys would be so fickle sometimes.


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“You should have just woke me up when you’re home.” I pulled my mind out of the wander, back to the reality as soon as I heard your raspy-sleepy voice and smiled after our eyes met accidentally. However, I’m not planning to look away at the time being just as you’re giving me the softest gaze; looking so happy to see me.


“Ugh, okay, woman, I’m lost. Please stop looking at me with those eyes, plus, stop smiling at me too, you got me all so nervous, it’s insane.” Your voice still sounds like you’re too sleepy to even wake up in the first place. It might be wrong but I somehow find that voice as an epiphany I would forever want to listen.


“Did you wait for me for so long?” I asked in the same whispering tone. It’s as if I’m scared to wake you up even when you’re already all sober.


You’re making up your position; body tilted to facing me and hands crossing above your chest so comfortably. Your eyes keep on closing and for a while, I don’t hear you say a single thing answering. “I could wait for you forever long, it’s nothing.”


I can’t hold myself not to giggling, “That’s not how you’d answer One’s question, sir.” And we both laugh, in such a tiny whispering low voice again. I wonder if this is it’s: the love of unexplainable things, that we may just be sitting still, next to each other and sinking in silence, then laughing over a mere trivial thing. I wonder if this is it’s: the love that feels so easy and right in every corner of viewing.


“Thank you so much.” I said genuinely. Eyes are looking right at yours that are now wide open and doing just as same as me. Those of yours were quiet but too, having such a big question that you kept on hiding. I don’t know whether it is just your way to let me finish my words first or that you’re hesitating.


“Thank you so much for keeping your promise to me. Thank you so much for willingly to build one kind of a family though you were never quite familiar with it — and with me. I might not be much of a religious person, but to God, I’d make sure I have your name in the daily prayer I pray so thoughtfully.


You leaned closer and reached for my shoulder. Handing me the warmest hug I have ever learned. The atmosphere around is consistent to such stillness that all we could ever hear was the changing heartbeats of ours. It’s warm and all I would die and long for.


“You shouldn’t have come up with a sudden confession, ma’am. That one is literally bad for my health. However, I’m too, going to state some sentences to express the gratefulness: I’m much thank you for the warmth you were most provided among us. I’m much thank you for your existence in this life line, though I wouldn’t mind chasing after you in another lifetime,”


“Your presence is such a blessing I’d spare my life to wait in every kind of universe that ever existed. You are worth the wait in such an evermore long. You are the home full of warmth, the family I finally felt familiar to hold onto me. So, I’m much thank you that you always dared to face the fear, learning that being a grown-up means of the greater responsibilit

ies to bear. Even so, I’m much thank you that you are here today too.”



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