Hey @cildebron, I remember you…
I remember the first time we met in Kedai Kopi Kaliurang, -almost four years ago-, and admiring you since then.
I remember your love for coffee and how you would describe every little thing about it to me so passionately.
I remember how I finally learnt to enjoy a cup of coffee because of you.
I remember the night, when I said I was alone and you came over to accompany me in Kedai Kopi Babarsari.
I remember that was where we got closer and became inseparable later on.
I remember the time we spent together; those good old days when we both became the witnesses of each other’s journey.
I remember those sleepless night on your room, where I used to sleep over with hundreds of story to tell.
I remember correctly, what was the matter that bothered us and what was the story we would repeatedly share every single time; your-so-called-hiu and my secret date.
I remember the banana split we had on Kedai Kopi Kaliurang, which the portion was perfectly fit for brokenhearted people.
I remember how we cheered over a cup of coffee in Blandongan as a commemoration of our nyessss moment
I remember the time we were still standing next to each other.
I remember it was you, who understood those unexpected little act I would do at some random cause in random place.
I remember when I did monolog over those “Mau dibawaaa ke manaa hubungan kitaaaa….” song by emotionally replying “Lah knapa pula mas-nya curhat sama saya! Ini saya aja lagi bingung loh Mas, hubungan saya ini juga mau dibawa kemana!
I remember I could randomly curcol to a wall or some standing door in front of you.
I remember we would laugh together over it.
I remember it was you, who never questioned my spontaneous trip every now and then, but always welcomed me home whenever I reached back to your place.
I remember you gave me a piece of paper, a letter for the shark I would meet during my trip to Karimun Jawa.
I remember I had to give those letter to them, and so I did.
I remember our #walkingdowntheroad, where we walked Yogya-Ganjuran by our own feet.
I remember it took 6.5 hours to reach the place, after those 25 km we spent on the road.
I remember we had fun on the way; the selfie picture we took along, how we stopped over some rice field just to lay ourselves down on the ground, the little stall we stopped by to rest for a while, those what-the-heck stare we got from many people when they knew how far we’ve walked.
I remember when night fell down and we kept move forwards with our own feets, one step in time.
I remember we silently forced ourselves to keep walking with no option to give up, no matter how exhausted we were.
I remember we reached the destination, and went home with a new understanding of word “determination”.
I remember how we celebrated my 27th birthday, doing some “cave hiking” in some cave in Goa Pindul.
I remember the laughed and excitement we shared that day, as clearly as all of laughter we’ve shared together along these times.
Also, I remember that was the last time I met you.
I remember each of it so dearly.
I remember how we used to be so close to each other.
I remember how great it was when we were still standing next to each other.
But, I don’t remember, at which point we grew apart.
I don’t remember, when we stopped talking to each other.
I don’t remember, when the distance started expanding between.
I don’t remember, at which point we started to hide our story and thought.
I don’t remember, since when our story sharing became just a kind of merely exchanging greeting.
I don’t remember, why we feel like a stranger these days.
I don’t remember…
But I miss you, Cil…
I really do.