Bertumbuh, sebuah proses.

Hiruk pikuk dan apa yang terjadi saat ini, dibanyak sela kehidupan; mengharuskan saya berpikir secara logis dan rasional. Saya merasa bahwa ternyata kehidupan bukan menawarkan keindahan atau kebahagiaan belaka, tapi lebih pelik. Nyatanya saya menyadari bahwa apa yang saya lalui tidak akan pernah mudah.

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Didepan saya, seperti ada dua pilihan dan dua jalan yang terbuka lebar. Muncul pilihan apakah saya harus dibuat nyaman dengan dunia saya saat ini, atau memang harus memberanikan diri berjalan ke suatu tempat yang belum pernah saya jajaki. Dua pilihan itu tidak mudah, bak sedang memacu diri saya tahu bahwa yang sedang saya alami adalah bukan sebuah kompetisi. Pilihan yang terbuka lebar untuk saya adalah kemungkinan-kemungkinan yang bisa saja membuat takdir saya berubah.  Dalam diri saya, saya merasa ada ketidakpantasan dan ketidakcukupan bahwa diri ini bisa mengatasi rintangan-rintangan yang nanti datang dan berseliweran. Padahal saya belum mencoba.

One Season: She Finds Her Aster.

Passing the days, weeks, and all nights shifted; fast, blurry, and flash. How one season transforms from a blooming happiest person to an ordinary one. The times shifted in a flash, 6 months was the number of times the mixed feelings turned the logic ups and down. Swirling like the number of winds hits the clouds. It was running through the flows of the winds. She follows the winds, what she was thinking the right decisions. 

One season, she was blooming. She finds an Aster, it was covered in Lilac and Lavender color. It bloomed in one season. She said she was the luckiest person on earth. She gazes that surrounds was the best gift. She forgot. It only bloomed in one season.

The ended paragraph.

I was staring at the text that he sent me, it is still warm like he always does every day. It does describe how he treats some people very well.

I was fallen into grateful and blessings to have (or ever had) and recognize someone who most likely has the same traits as I am.

He knows very well that I love reading books rather than watching some series or movies. I said I love to fantasize about what is written in a book so I can imagine how the scenario was going in my head. I love to read him and observe the smallest matters that glued my eyes to him. His eyes, his smile, even his skin texture, and how the perfume fit his personality, pleasing. He feels like a book that I am keen on reading over and over again, opening each of the pages just to see and curious about what’s happening in the next chapter. 

One fine morning; he knocked at my door.

I knew it was him because I never had planned to have a guess other than him. He smiled like he always did. I always melt to see his reactions. His steps always calming, one of my favorite sounds.