2014-01-11 - 9:31 p.m.
I�m glad I got to hang out with Gigi and Nezzie again last Sunday. (Gigi�s gone back from her trip to Semarang with her boyfriend Froggy.) We tried a new karaoke place in Jalan Veteran, South Jakarta. It was nice and we had fun. YAY!
I�d sung a lot of wedding songs there. Why? Long ago, he�d half-serious asked me to sing at his wedding. One night at work last year, he�d been singing All For One�s �I Swear� joyfully when I walked into the staff room. I stopped and grinned at him.
�So, is that going to be your wedding song?�
He stopped and grinned back at me. �Yeah.�
�Who�s going to sing it?�
�You, of course.�
My smile widened.
�The question is, where are you having your wedding?�
�Here, on the first of March.� He beamed and mentioned the place where my cousin Reza got married too. �Don�t forget.�
Duly noted. Of course I won�t. It�ll be one of the happiest days of your life, buddy.
I don�t know if they�re going to have a wedding band of musicians on stage or not at the reception. I don�t even know if the band will allow the guests to sing too or not. (I also don�t know if they can play the song(s) I�m familiar with.)
I don�t know � and I don�t care. It�s best to be prepared. Besides, I just want to feel positive about this. I want him to be happy, because he�s still my friend and I care about him a lot. He deserves this. She�s a nice girl who loves him back. (And yes, I consider her a friend too.)
Whatever happens, he and I can still be good friends, right? I know that. I can feel that in my heart. It doesn�t have to be the end of the world, and I�m not being a total hypocrite about this. I know doing the right thing isn�t always easy. It doesn�t always make you feel good.
However, sticking to my code of honour makes me feel even better, because it�s worth it. I�ve accepted reality as it is. Not every love has to turn into a real relaionship. Sometimes love means letting go.
That�s why I don�t get it that some people out there still think that I�m in a serious denial � or slowly killing myself in the process. Or that I don�t feel angry or jealous. (Sad? Yeah.) Or that I don�t love him that much, because I feel no anger nor jealousy that much.
Seriously, this ain�t no stupid soap opera. Who needs more drama? Definitely NOT me, thank you very much. This is real life where one has to adjust quickly and be practical in order to survive better and become stronger.
Then again, they don�t really know me.
Vince told everyone one afternoon that he�d got a message from him. When Vince saw me, he said:
�Especially you. I don�t know he only specifically mentioned your name.�
I raised an eyebrow and laughed. �You�re kidding.�
�No, I�m only telling the truth.�
When I told the funny redhead that I�d also got a message from him too, Vince�s clear blue eyes widened in genuine surprise.
�Really?� he said. �Why didn�t you tell us?�
I grinned again but said nothing. Why should I? In fact, I kind of forgot about it until Vince mentioned him.
Gulp.
Okay, I don�t want to jump into assumptions, but I suddenly remember his last day at work. There had been a new, small construction work in the staff room. I was busy writing something at my desk, while he (not Vince, though) was trying to finish something else � probably a report � on the staff�s communal PC.
BANG! BANG! CLANK! CLANK!
I couldn�t resist it; I�m the girl with the vivid imagination. Everytime we heard metal against metal, I always teased him.
BANG! BANG!
�Victim number one,� I called out. �He refused to tell them where the secret treasure was.�
CLANK! CLANK! �Aaarrrggghhh!!!� (Okay, the last one was me.)
�Okay, that was victim number two.�
BANG! BANG! CLANK! CLANK!
�I�m afraid we need to find some seriously vacant space to bury the bodies,� I stated oh-so-seriously. I pulled a straight expression. �This place is stuffy, and � oh, I hope they�re not making so much of a mess there.�
He�d laughed so hard he could barely type a thing. I know that�s not the type of joke a girl usually comes up with. Besides, only horror-movie fans can relate to that.
After that, it was Vince�s turn to use the PC. Suddenly it started raining. He got up and pretended to freak out: �RAIN!�
�Jemuran!� (Drying laundry outdoor!) I called out. Vince chuckled and sat down again.
�You�re a funny girl,� he said. �Mark�s going to miss you.�
I fell silent. A lump quickly formed in my throat, swelling and making me gag and want to cry. I don�t know why Vince had said that � and I don�t even want to find out.
If he read this blog somehow, I hope he wouldn�t hate me. I don�t think I can live with that. But maybe I could guess my role in his life now.
We may never have hung out that often back when he was still around, but we did talk about some serious stuff quite a lot. I�m more of a quiet, trustworthy friend. I�m more like a big sisterly figure. (He�ll be 27 this March, I�m 32.)
I think I can live with that. In fact, I�m honoured.
�Whoa, you okay, buddy?�
�Yeah. Just a light bump on the wall.�
�Oh, okay. Sorry I freaked out too much.�
�That�s okay. At least I know that you care about me, hehe.�
As a matter of fact, I do. More than you know.
Probably more than I should...
R.
