DIORAMAS
34. Distance and Meet
Yogyakarta, End of September 2018
The drizzle that had fallen had become a heavy rain when I opened my bedroom window curtains. Smiled faintly when they found some children playing ball in a small field across my house as if they did not feel that the rain was pouring. Children play ball, and the hard rain flushes them.a completely familiar sight.
‘The memories are like mushrooms, Al. Once you give them a stimulant, then they will pop out uncontrollably.’
That's right, and I can't blame anyone if in the end the memories just pop up because I stimulated those memories myself. About the rain, about coming home, about me, also about the feelings that are still difficult to study even though it has been almost a month I decided to return. One month, and I haven't found an answer to the decision I made. About my decision to go home after a long time of disappearance, as well as the decision to disappear that I made two years ago.
“Your resignation letter? There's still on my desk, Al. Why?” I even remember the question Kartika asked me 16 months ago, when I asked about my resignation letter on the first day I returned to work after two weeks of leave after I realized I was in a coma.
“May I ask you again, mbak?”
“For what? Is there something you need to fix?”
“No. I'm not resigning. Or, have you agreed to the resignation letter?”
Two days after Evan returned to Jogja with his father and mother Mita, Aslan's doctor allowed me to go home because my condition was stable except for my feet because my mother and I had not decided to have surgery. And really, on my return from the hospital and the mother who also returned to Jogja after I persuaded so many days, does not mean my condition is getting better. There was a burden I never shared on anyone that made me cry more and more and more every night after my mother's return to Jogja.
“Mother go home first to Jogja, later after Al finish the job before the holidays, Al must go home.”
“Mother accompany you until you finish your working period yes.”
“Do not ma. Later in Jogja who takes care of the house if mom is here? My work is still a month away. Al is fine here. Already used to this stick.”
Lying, in fact, every time I see a stick lying in the corner of my room and realize that the stick is from now on a substitute for the function of my left foot, and I know that it is, each time my chest felt tight and ended up with a cry that only myself could understand.
A cry became the only witness that Alia was not as strong as what people saw. Witnesses that an Alia who is sometimes colloquial and naive, can be so devastated every time remembering what happened to her. Yes, in fact, I also need time to be able to accept and hold my chest for everything that happens to me.
“Al? Ummi thought you had returned to Jogja with your mother.” even the reaction of Ummi Hamidah when it again ringed in my head and made me smile wryly.
I who after my return almost never left the house, in the end decided to meet Ummi Hamidah and ask permission to move rooms downstairs because the second floor really made me difficult.
“No, umm. Mom goes home to Jogja alone, Al still has a job in Bandung.”
“But,.”.
“Alia is fine coke, umm.”
Yes, besides the colossal and naive Alia turning into the dim-witted Alia, I also transformed into a very sensitive woman after the accident. I even considered all the other people's attention to me as a form of pity for seeing a young woman who was walking staggered because she was not used to using the cane in her left hand.
I who was still so devastated could not judge the attention of the people around me without feeling that they were all doing it out of pity.
What about Evan after I get home from the hospital? We still contact each other, of course. Every few hours Evan called me and asked me about my condition, again, even the attention Evan gave me did not escape my prejudice. Right, in fact my heart became that weak after the accident.
“No need to go to Bandung, mas. I'm doing fine. Friends help me a lot here.” and that is the line I always say to Evan whenever the guy tells me to visit me in Bandung.
We were still in contact with each other, before I decided to stay away and disappear from everyone's circulation. A decision that made me almost numb and suicidal thoughts flared up not just once.
‘You will only trouble everyone with your presence in their midst, Alia.’
‘See you who are so weak and despicable. Even to walk you cannot. Then how will you become someone useful to them?’
‘You know, Alia? Something that is destroyed will no longer be useful for others.and so with yourself.’
‘See Evan, and then get in touch. Do you think a man as perfect as Evan deserves the wife of a disabled woman like you?’
‘Think of your family, Alia. Will you be a burden to your family forever? Think about your life.’
And another series of cursed sentences that made my head almost break and I almost drank the insect repellent liquid. Yes, being alone and desperate almost made me think of ending my life with a bottle of insect repellent liquid in the corner of my room.
At that time I just thought that death was the only way for all the pain I felt to disappear immediately. That death is the only way visible to my eyes without me seeing a way brighter than death. Ah, at that time my faith in God began to fade along with the pain that never got the antidote.
“Alia, would you like to join ummi, dear?”
And the invitation sentence from Ummi Hamidah at that time felt like a hand that pulled me from the pit of despair. A sentence of invitation that became the beginning of my steps after. It may sound excessive, but after the first invitation I said, ummi Hamidah became so attentive with me and I who slowly could see the sincerity of every attention that ummi Hamidah gave. Although still the invitation sentence ummi Hamidah could not make me change the decision to return to work, the decision to remain in Bandung, and the decision to disappear from my friends in Jogja, including Evan.
“What exactly do you want, Al?” that question. That was the question I remembered most from Evan even though the man asked that question a year and a half ago.when Evan visited me in Bandung a month after my return from the hospital, he said, and two weeks after I decided to change my phone number and shut down my social media.
“I can't marry you, mas.” Yes, I can't and will never be the wife Evan expects me to be. I was just going to be a burden to Evan, and before it actually happened, then I decided to go home. A decision that hurt Evan, and made me stop feeling guilty even today.
Mother, compared to everyone, I know this woman was the one who was hurt the most by the decision I made a year and a half ago. About my decision to pull over, the decision to disappear and the decision to choose to stay in Bandung rather than return to Jogja for a dozen months.
“If you do not want to go home, then the mother will accompany you here. Mother accompany you until you feel ready to go home, until you feel that everything will be fine.” I even remember how my mom came to Bandung a week after I decided to cancel my wedding plans with Evan.
“Alia need time to alone, ma'am. Justjust please. Alia just needed time to be alone.” back then, I even had trouble distinguishing where my cries were and where the cries belonged to mother. It felt like everything was going awry and I couldn't find the end and the beginning of all the chaos. The mess I made myself, and the mess I regret.
__________
“Al,”
A knock on the door of my room almost made me jump in shock and dragged me from all the daydreams that I knew how long it had been in my mind. Long enough that I didn't realize the heavy rain out there had subsided and left only a drizzle. It made me take a deep breath and wipe away the tears that I realized I was falling for granted. Ah, it's always been like this every time I remember how I've been living my life the last two years. Walk towards the dresser and look at my face reflected on the glass in front of it before taking a deep breath and opening the door of my room.
“Ya, mom?”
“There's guests.” Almost a full minute I watched my mother's face as she told me that a guest was looking for me. It was a difficult face to guess what it meant until I chose to give up in the end.
“Who's bu?”
“Mas Evan.” Again. It took me almost a full minute to digest the name I just mentioned. The name that I avoided for this year and a half, was also the name that I missed half dead even though I never revealed it.
“Alia not ready, bu.” My eyes even heated up and felt my faint gaze being blocked by the tears that began to fill my eyes.
“But, Al.”
“Please, mom. Al is not ready to meet Evan.”
Again it took me a few minutes before I took a step forward to hug me without saying anything. But this is what I need from my mother. Without judgment, without seeking, also without but. Because I know, the mother has understood the condition of her daughter to this woman-even had no choice but to agree with what I asked.
“Sorry, mas.”
I don't know how many times in a year and a half I've muttered that apology even if it's just for myself. An apology that was never answered because I never said it. Also an apology that always managed to make me cry and blame myself, like now.
How pitiful Alia looked to her by her own decision. Sitting in front of the door of his own room and holding back the sobs that I did not know how many times until I was adept at hiding my own sobs. Staring at the nanar a ring so sweet coiled on my ring finger. A ring that is a sign that I have bonded with someone even though a year and a half ago I decided to untie it.
Yes, I decided to cancel my marriage with Evan and stay out of the man's reach, but I never thought about letting go of my engagement ring with Evan. I chose to run, but I just wanted to be chased. I chose to leave, but I just wanted to be found. I wanted to break away, but my heart chose to stay attached.
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