The Past

Stay in Neverland

One yellow afternoon, Eddy popped by to the coffee shop where I freelance. He was wearing the wood-brown parka, even though it was thirty degree in Jakarta, and faded blue jeans. From the glass door, I could see his eyes were tired. I knew something was going on–

That was the kind of face when someone broke his heart. I knew because I was once did it to him. Eddy, the tallest boy in the class, happen to be my former lover, which now we often joke about as if it was all a failed tragic comedy but we managed to maintain a healthy, decent friendship afterwards.

Unlike everybody else, when in stress, Eddy became extremely talkative. Once he sat down and ordered a sugarless coffee, he quickly apologies he needed to finish an interview his boss assigned him, deadline tomorrow. I nodded, watching him scribbling list of questions on a wrinkled blank paper.

I waited after a mindless chit chat of my recent trip to Gili island, until he broke off the news: he just ran into the girl who recently just broke his heart. His eyes stared elsewhere but my eyes, trying to cover his pouting mouth by lighting a cigarette, but it was a non-smoking area so he hesitated.

The story was, he accidentally ran into her in campus for the first time after his fruitless confession weeks ago. The butterfly was still very much there, he said. Later that day, the girl's best friend gave him a pep talk, suggesting after all, he still might have a chance of winning her again. You know, someday, when she's sure and ready, which in other words it's only a bouquet of false hope and bull crap.

But poor Eddy, he did not seem to have a clue, or even if he had, he was too smitten to acknowledge. So, being what I thought the bigger, older, wiser person in the situation I stopped him in the middle of his sentence.

'Eddy,' I looked straight into his eyes, 'grow up.'

For a second, finally his eyes stared back at mine. His mouth curled and did not say a word.

I blabbered about the cold hard, what I assumed, truth. Things he might not need to hear yet.  I exactly became the person who broke my innocence. I was not saving him, I, for the second time, burn the remaining good part of his heart. And as much as life has to happen, he didn't deserve this now, or from me.

Indirectly, I just told him to fall in love with all the precaution and safety net. To never fall in love in the best kind of way, where it meant to be a giant leap of faith and free falling. Foolishly, like every young love should have.

The night ended alright. An hour later, we spoke about something else, like the upcoming theatre in town, anything else but the girl. Although, days later, when I come to think of it, I thought of taking my words back, aided with an apology. And said:

Don't. Don't grow up. Stay there for as long as you can. Because there is nothing more innocent and kind than loving someone so ridiculously blind, full of hope. Do not let life happened and take that away from you, like it did to mine. 

I was just recently reminded: growing up isn’t the problem, said the Little Prince, forgetting is.

A piece by : Fiya Muiz