The Love of the Poet
Episode 17's
Seventeenth Part
The Love of the Poet
The conversation I had originally imagined was full of inquiring tones from both of Mr. Beib's parents,
doesn't seem to happen. Mainstream questions about family, how much
brother, what father and mother's work, or my education how, no
catapulted. The topic of conversation is only about the work and development of the tabloid
the children I care about. Occasionally interspersed with their jokes or stories
itself relating to the company or the attitude of the people they are
be familiar.
After dinner, they'll come home. If they leave, it'll be me and Mr. Beib in this apartment. The housekeeper came home a few hours ago. Well, this is dangerous, man,
my thinking. No, I have to come home too.
“I also have to go home, out of this back to the office due to a deadline. Tomorrow all the writing should be sent to the printing press. And I have to do the final editing,” I said standing up.
“What? Deadline on this night?
How's this Beib? Why did you let Naina work late into the night?” Ask
the mama.
“Oh it's okay Mom. Journalists work that way. We don't have hours like people who work in an office. Our work depends on the news obtained, after it is typed
I am waiting for the writing of my friends. Stay in the office until
morning is normal.” My leg is flat without pressure.
“Oh my God, you deserve not to be fat. Be careful, take care of your health. Okay all right, let's go home together.” Bring mom.
“Let my Naina deliver, Ma. Mama and Papa just go first with Kang Maman,” Pak Beib said quickly. Kang Maman is their driver.
I wanted to say no. But the glint of Mr. Beib's eyes seemed to forbid me from coming home with his parents caught a glimpse. That night, with a frowning face, I dropped the body back on
the chair I was sitting in.
“Hm..do not think that no-no and do not frown showing such an unpleasant face. I'm not the tiger that's gonna pounce on you. I want to talk seriously with you
after my parents came home. It's a no-nonsense talk.
I want to marry you. Really.”
“What?” my eyes looked at him sharply. “You haven't asked me if I love you or not, but you're proposing to me, and we don't know you any closer.” I still show no face
thrilled.
“Lho, do I have to ask that again? Your attention to the stars proves it, you like him, right? Well, what's the difference between a star and me, we're one body.”
“There's a difference, Sir.”
“What is it?”
“The star is an artist, he is grounded and not a rich man nor a businessman like Mr. In my imagination the Star is a bohemian poet who is never ashamed when I eat ketoprak in the courtyard
TIM or on the sidewalk of the train station. She also loves to read poetry everywhere. I don't fit in with your glamorous life, Mr. Beib. Everything is classy, all branded and you can buy anything for hundreds of millions with a single swipe, no calculations for the future. You live with
luxury that has been hereditary, while the Star may not be so. Him
just like me, marginal human beings who look at tomorrow fully
doubt, ask nature, what we can eat tomorrow. But..” I stopped my sentence.
“But what?” your tank.
“The Morning Star that I started to love just lives in my imagination. She's not real.”
“She's real. He is in front of you.” suddenly Mr. Beib knelt in front of me. “What are you thinking
about your Morning Star, he's in front of you Naina. In my body there are two
others I am an artist who is always on your mind. I should be able to play
both roles are. If I eliminate one of them, then there are thousands of people
who will suffer. But my love for you is sincere. Naina, I'm not a rich man
who can buy love last night, if I want, a lot of girls in line
waiting for me to do that. But I'm not that type. I'm looking for
complete love, which can make my life calm, which is able to fill the loneliness
and my longing for the whole life of humanity. That's all I see
there's you. I've been studying your character for years. You're that woman
the Lord preached with complete reasonableness in your feminine form. You
is you're not a physical engineer, psychic. You are what you are, that's what I like
from you. Believe me this is not a romp or a seduction with empty speech, really
I didn't mean to frame you..” Mr. Beib took my hand. My heart is still
savorless. I just kept quiet without expression.
“I'm no match for you Mr. Beib. I'm poor, my parents are nobody they're unemployed seniors who are my dependents, I have a mentally ill sister, all my life I have to be
noticed it. I'm just a journalist who sometimes holds back hunger or
more and more a bowl of instant noodles in order to survive. I'm not the girl with
elegant fashionable appearance clad in expensive clothes and bags with make-up
perfect. You can get hundreds of girls who exceed me. They will
chasing you because you have the perfect attraction. I was very humble when I was in
near you, I honestly feel uncomfortable. Sometimes I suffer because
loved by someone like you. Who am I, I'm just a human being
women who can only develop words, love poetry and life
marginal who was already familiar with me, even since I was a child. Me...”
Not done yet, my chest feels tight. Mr. Beib stood up and pulled my body, then he hugged me tightly. I saw her tears welling up in the pelupuk. I became all-round
wrongful.
“Naina, don't say that again. Just tell me will you accept my proposal? Or at least we got engaged. I love you so much...very..” hugged him tighter.
“Pak Beib, please release your embrace first. I can't breathe, my chest is tight.” I was trembling, right in her ear.
Then he sat me back down, and I slowly set the words out of my lips. “Look, we don't need to hurry, sir. You only know me outside. We need some time
to get to know each other better, you have to look at my family more closely
and I am too. I don't want to get to know more, there will be erosion
a sense that makes each of us begin to regret all that has been
happened.”
“How long should I do that? No, it's good that we got engaged first, and that should be done immediately!” said firmly.
Apparently Mr. Beib knew of the anxiety in my mind. So when he set the date of the engagement that he had designed with Papa and Mama, I could not say
anything at all. Not that I was happy, but I had no way out to reject it. I see
he's not kidding. And when the engagement invitation was spread out in
my office, all my friends even Mas Heri are in an uproar. (Connected)
