The Door of Destiny Removing Single
Episode 1's

For some people, the initial explanation becomes a necessary thing. Just as a greeting meeting or even become the end of the bridge to understanding the things that will be conveyed at length. For me, this became necessary. Become an important part that is not only as a complement to the row of sheets that will follow in the next sheets. But more to, as the rules of the game that are stated at the beginning, so that the reader reaches an agreement before stepping to explore the storyline that will be presented behind the next sheet. Because for me, reading someone's work is a way of valuing someone's intellectual property, and I want to be appreciated that way.

The plot begins with the courage of a fictional character I call Dea, who tries to share a way of making peace with the destiny of her life. Dea is 28 years old and single. Single, this is what makes him able to share the story of how in the end to find the understanding that behind the final door of a destiny, there is a door by door that must be open and closed with or without the consent of the recipient of destiny. Yes, because once again we are all the beneficiaries of destiny, while the Almighty has power and control.

Being single at an age that according to “common parameters” belongs to “old virgin”, is not easy. Unilateral trials, of course, of the unauthorized, will feel like lemon juice deliberately placed on a gaping wound. It's about Dea, and this is where the story begins………….

CHAPTER 1

NUMERAL

It was a sunny afternoon, and I began by building up the courage to leave my desk to join my office friends attending an invitation to a wedding reception for one of my juniors. One word “weight”. I don't know since when, the wedding reception invitation felt so painful to my heart. It even seems to be an allergy that appears to stifle the chest and sometimes infiltrate my common sense which certainly affects my mindset towards people who will also attend a wedding reception. The pain was apparently grown by my fear - more precisely my discomfort - over the status I am currently holding - at the age of 28. As for those allergies, I think they stem from the insensitivity of those who prosecute unilaterally, over my status. Singletons.

A greeting - more precisely - satire, awakened me from my long imagination.

“Dea......, when is marriage?”. “Vita it's your juniors, already in advance...”.

I turned my head, automatically putting on a smile that I had prepared all morning to deal with this kind of attack.

“Well, that's it..When are you??” “he...he...” I replied, while grabbing the motor key and walking towards the parking lot.

I want as soon as possible to leave my co-worker on this one. Her name is Yulia, she is 1 year adrift of me. Must have been married and had children.

“Bareng me aja mb Dea, use my motor”, said Tika.

Tika approached me while running small. Tika is my junior, her son is quite cheerful and friendly. Although sometimes the childish attitude he has is sometimes still implied.

I nodded and immediately followed Tika, while Mb Yulia walked also walking with us. I think for a while, I was free from the side effects of pain and allergies that a few minutes ago have been tried stimulated by mb Yulia. Thank you Tika, my inner.

Me and a few other colleagues set off together for the location of Vita's house. Today is Saturday, the working hours at my place end at 12:00 WIB, and we agreed to attend Vita's invitation after work. 10-minute trip to the house of Vita, and finally reached the destination location. Our group was 12 men, 8 women and 4 men. This kind of familiarity that makes me sometimes reluctant to find another job, even though the digits I get every month are sometimes only enough for my needs until the middle of the month.

Everyone present, seemed to be enjoying his chatter, no exception for me. Safe position in my opinion, because I stay close to Tika. We discussed the wedding decorations which are about 2 meters from my seat.

“Eh, Madam Dea, he said if we steal from the bride, we can hear you know...”, Tika whispered to me.

“Third you”, I replied. I'm actually not ignorant of the myths surrounding bridal jasmine, it's just that I don't feel that applies to me.

“Truly, mbaakkk Dea. Anyway later on the same page Vita, I'll steal the one in the bun. He..he...”, said Tika expressed his nosy plan.

I just smiled at his silly behavior. But....do I also have to try ???. Jeez...., apparently I've started to catch Tika. Soon I ended my daydreams and I decided not to follow Tika's idea. I looked around me, and the figure I said I was avoiding was sitting behind me. And before long, it looks like the drama of pain and allergies will start again here.

“Dea, by the way how old are you?”, Mb Yulia unceremoniously asked my age.

“Emh.... how much? I think we sepantaran deh mbak”, I replied by restraining emotions

“Eh yes?. I think I'm 1 year older than you. Just a coincidence, I have been first from looking more mature so”, said Mb Yulia Sambal devouring the onde-onde presented at the table.

“Emang Mb Yulia how old is she now?”, suddenly Tika interrupted the conversation. With a face that is not made-up, it already looks funny and innocent. Mb Yulia gave the code through her finger.

“29 mbak???”, really???”, Tika with shock gave a response to the cover.

“Iyaaaah”, Mb Yulia replied with full confidence. It's possible that confidence grew from the “good luck” he earned. For me it is lucky to be married at a young age, with loved ones, not even long blessed with a baby.

“Yes.., no matter 35 years ago. In the end.Mb Yulia hobby angry anyway..he he he he...”, Tika gives a response.

Honest in my heart I really want to laugh out loud. Finally the Lord defended me, though through Tika's spicy mouth. But I didn't continue laughing, because I realized that it was me who might be worth laughing at. Or maybe be pitied. Because by the time someone else at the age of 28 already had 2 or even 3 children, I was still alone.

“IIIhhhh julid deh Tika”, Mb Yulia pinched Tika. Eventually the bullying turned victim, Tika and not me. Tika who felt pain, trying to reply Mb Yulia, to cause an uproar. I had to mediate. Until finally, the bride-Vita, came to greet us one by one.

Unexpectedly, while Vita was busy greeting friends, Tika grabbed jasmine who was at the end of Vita's bun. Quite deft, until the owner is unaware. But I quite clearly saw, Tika managed to pocket some jasmine florets “curiannya”.

The party went on as usual, and we finally went home. This trip home, Tika again gave me a ride. I entrust him who rides his matic bike, because I admit he is indeed more shrewd. For some reason, Tika was riding her vehicle very slowly.

“Mbk Dea, try to see what's in my blazerku” pocket, Tika codes for me to take something in her blazer bag.

I said, 'cause I thought he needed something out of his pocket. “Hmmmmm, it turns out that the jasmine flower of your crime is”, I said sambal rent his ear.

“Aduhhhh..duh duuhh”, Tika mringis, not because of pain certainly because I only tease her.

“You believe beginning”, my question

“Kata Sampahku so mbak, Simbahku was married at 14 years old. My mother married at 18. My eldest brother is 20 years old, while my sister number 2 is married at 19 years old. Well I should be able to get married at that age range as well”, Tika sambal monyong-monyong spoke.

“Because Nyuri melatya brides”?, I asked sambal tease him

“Gak”...ha ha..ha,” But who knows this does work”, Tika laughs loosely. We finally arrived at the office parking lot. I thanked him and turned to my room.

“Mbak Dea, sure you don't want this??”, Tika offers her jasmine to me

I walked back into my work room, coincidentally my cell phone and my bag were still in the room. I opened the phone, and there was a message there. From someone who has been with me for 3 years. Zakiy.

“Home home?”,

“Let me go home, let's go for a walk.”

The message was short enough, yet quite stirring up my energy that was already weakened today.

“Iya”, I replied briefly.

I'll be home soon, riding my motorcycle. Trying to forget the conversation of age and luck that was thrown by Mb Yulia and Tika. But I can't lie to myself, I can't forget. Even if I try to concentrate on the road, I think I still focus on the numbers 28, 29,. Grievous.

The lights are red, I stop. Hembbbb. I have to wait until I turn into a green light. Kulirik on my right, young mother, seems to be as old as I am. Carrying groceries on the back of his motorbike, while holding his son. It looks heavy, plus the weather is hot. From the looks of it, it looks like I just went home shopping. Suddenly my mind floated, where is her husband??? I turned my eyes away, for fear of being told that julid was commenting on the fate of people. Even in the heart.

The board showed 67.66.., for some reason in the middle of a hot day, I felt the movement of the traffic light. Turning my gaze to the left, I saw a pair - like husband and wife - joking. It seems that hot weather does not apply to those who are enjoying the beauty of togetherness. I'm back on my wish. If it were me, back home from work was picked up by my husband. How happy, even though it must be hot under the hot sun. Ah. I daydream again.

32..31..30..29, I saw the board still moving slowly. Stopped at 28, as if it were no longer moving.

Hemmmmmm..seems like someone is trying to tease me, my mind. Even the traffic board teased me. Stop at the number 28. Is it, that's me. Lord, what other trials are these.. I grumbled to myself. Until the sound of the rider's horn behind me startled me. Green light. I continued my journey home. Trying to concentrate on my vehicle again.

I finally got home. I saw the door locked, I just remember today my family attended the family gathering at my aunt's house, which I deliberately avoided attending. Because I'm still traumatized by the pain and allergies that used to reign supreme when I met my extended family. I've prepared the double lock, I'm entering the house. I took my cell phone, I wanted to tell Zaky when I was home. For some reason, my eyes are precisely on the digital clock on the home screen of my phone “14.28”. Tuhaannn, this is what else. I don't know why I've become so sensitive to the number 28. Baper with every incident today. Maybe because of that.

“I'm already at home”. “Let's go early huh. I'm at home”, I sent a message to Zaky.

Shortly thereafter Zaky replied

“Kangen?” creating a heart emoticon

I smiled and replied with a heart emoticon as well. For a moment I forgot my confusion over numbers. There is nothing wrong with 28. Maybe it's just a coincidence, symbolizing my age which until now still has not married. Even though I already have someone next to me.

This is where the most painful part is. I am not single without a partner. Although not an official couple. But Zaky, for various reasons, said he wasn't ready to marry me. And some say this is foolishness, though I prefer to say it's a struggle. I think God is so unfair to me. Letting me fight, while others easily gain independence in a relationship. Independence by the Kabul ijab proclamation.

I choose to sleep, hopefully later wake up no longer meet the number 28. My inner.

CHAPTER II

SURPRISE

On Sunday night, Zaky made his promise to pick me up early. At 5pm, we were on our way. Heading somewhere, which according to Zaky need to try culinary. We have a habit, that the main purpose when dating is culinary. Watching is not our priority, which is possible for some other couples to be on a routine agenda.

“New perfume?”, Zaky opens our conversation. I was busy turning on the audio in his car, looking over.

“Gak, tetep yesterday”, I replied. I finally found the song I was looking for. I Finally Found You-Naff

“If so, maybe my nose is already aglek. Since there seems to be another scent on your body?”, Zaky seriously.

Instantly I felt a lack of confidence in myself. Kuciumi my hair and my clothes. Nothing is strange. I turned to give the code, asking Zaky for clarity.

“Aroma jasmine..”, he he he, Zaky chuckles.

“Gak funny”, I replied cynically. As I remembered the incident earlier this afternoon, another shadow of a figure flashed through my head. This time I was more emotional, because it should be the man sitting next to me that I hoped would end my tragic fate.

“Sensi gituuu. Wh why? It was done again fitting dating wedding event?”, Zaky as if know my heart.

“Udah immune, sampa numbed,” I replied. I deliberately hardened the volume so that Zaky also understood more of what I meant.

….I finally found you.

I hope Zaky is sensitive to that song....

but, it doesn't seem so.

Silent.

I'm trying to add volume to the audio, I'm looking at the guy who's focusing on the steering wheel and the highway - apparently.

Either really concentrated on driving, or was distracting from my hanged talk.

Red light, and 60 seconds.

Back I felt mocked by destiny. A moment later the countdown and the number moved towards 28.

Again

and again.