“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.” -Jack Kerouac
Melbourne was unplanned from the beginning. It was supposed to be some days in Sydney but then nobody was even sure that any plan would materialize. How happy I was to have had the chance to visit a new continent I’ve never been to — had to be approved by Asia Pacific General Manager, no less — and once again I didn’t visit its major city. Just like what I did with USA and Boston. Or Europe and Budapest. My travels were meant to be non-traditional, spontaneous and sweet, memorable and exciting. And the die-hard planner inside me happily obliged.
Warm welcome is, it seems, a signature of Aussies. Staying at AirBnB felt like staying at a relatives’ house. It helped that for some reasons, my first night was spent in a lovely two-story English style house of Melbourne’s most affluent suburb. What with the abundance of Asian influences that reminded me of home — or my roots, for that matter. A start of my working week with professionally made coffee by my colleague that honestly looked a lot like Steven Seagal. And the subsequent lively chats over — guess what — coffee, with the funniest people I’ve ever worked with.
Paris was cocky. New York didn’t care. Dubai was artificial. But Melbourne grew on me. It wasn’t a description you’d read in a travel magazine – because, I found, that it’s not meant to be described. It’s not a theory, but rather, something you put into practice without too many thoughts processed. It’s laid back, welcoming, full of smile, and will feed you various food that doesn’t disappoint.
Funny thing about my adventure in Melbourne is that, it was full of surprises – in such ways that turned to be good. There have been numerous occasions when I set my Google Maps to go to a famous eatery, only to find that I didn’t like it. In fact, in the end I’ve never tried the ones that are most recommended. I went around searching for alternatives and found what I needed. Maybe not exactly the best pasta joint in Lygon Street, but the ambiance was perfect. I could see the tagliatelle being made in front of me, and the gnocchi literally melted in my mouth. Or that hip brunch place that I turned down because there were too many people inside, only to find myself brunch-ing at the café next door with roughly the same amount of people but being presented the prettiest pancake I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
Walking through Chinatown, seeing more Caucasian-looking people eating happily with dresses and smart pants nonetheless more than Chinese-looking people on a merry Saturday night (which felt weird, but somehow good), I thought to myself …
Melbourne must have tried to send me an important message.
What I did, and how I did it in this city, is exactly what life should be. Twists and turns on every corner. An imperfect execution of well-made plans. Bunch of alternatives to the straight path. I might not have found what I was looking for, but I certainly found what I needed the most for that particular time frame.
I was gulping portions after portions of Dim Sum when my colleague asked about my plans for the future. I told him I’d be happy to continue school, but mother hesitated to let me do that before I get married to someone. I’d be “too bright” and he literally rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I know. There are things in life that I can’t control, right? Planning for career advancement or pursuing master’s is controllable. But meeting someone? I’m just gonna do what I am capable of influencing, then it might somehow alter the equation”
“I was just gonna say, I love my wife, and that’s because she’s smart. Now let me tell you something obvious. You’re definitely a catch. Guys in Indonesia are so dumb they are missing out on someone like you”
Full of dim sum goody in my belly, I pat myself on the back if, back home, I could really believe what we’ve just said.
Twists and turns.
Exception to the rule.
It happens. Everyday. All of my lucky cards scattered somewhere in this universe waiting for me to pick it up when I didn’t miss the bus.
And when that happens, I’ll remember the nights I spent in the most livable city in the world, with some handsomely made Cappuccino, mouth-watering pasta, authentic ha kau, or a delicious steak night on the bank of Yarra River.
Thank you, Melbourne, for reminding me that life is mysterious for a reason.
“I dreamed we were dancing in St Petersburg, then you fell and I caught you”
Sapsan train was my lonely ride. Moscow was sunny and inviting, for sure it was the summer high hanging in the air, but going further apart it was getting even gloomier. My friends were trying to get some much needed sobriety by sleeping uncomfortably. Everyone was silent for a while, with headphones on and minds flying away somewhere else. Most likely to the people they cared about, anywhere in the world.
Russian villages passed by my eyes like an echoes of Soviet past. It wasn’t exactly beautiful but it had a certain characteristic that you wouldn’t find anywhere else, and I succumbed to that moment with my eyes closed. Minds of mine drifted into territories that I didn’t want to revisit, and I found my eyes watery, glistening with tears.
Glavny station was up and running. Dark clouds were scrutinizing, cold air made me grasped. Maybe I wasn’t prepared for it to be this chilly, but something inside me got warmer. I couldn’t help but smirked my way into one of those historic buildings that would be the place to spend some nights in. I jumped at the thoughts of “I did it. I made it this far. I made it myself”.
St Petersburg was special to you, and it was becoming special to me too.
I left wondering, across a Gazprom building, how that photo on an icy bridge was taken. How you laughed like you didn’t have any care in the world. Was it one of these beautiful bridges I stepped my feet on? I wasn’t there, I wasn’t inside your mind –it was taken years ago– and neither was I now.
Neither was I now.
I wonder what you’d say. What if, in a parallel universe, I could have the right to tell you that I could to it without you? What if I instead begged that universe to change course and let everything stayed the same? Would you come running to me like a chicken you were, or would you stay still like you’ve never said a word?
The rain poured without warnings. I wasn’t getting myself drenched in this already cold temperature, no way…
“I think I need to give you a hug”
I was on a romantic movie scene, that’s what I told myself anyway. Even if it had to end abruptly like how it always did. Even though it wouldn’t last as per usual. Even though it was a simple, short walk that would linger longer than it should.
Maybe he was the only person I needed at that very moment, maybe I didn’t have to wish it was someone else, anyone who was less unreal to me. Weren’t we all mixed up? Weren’t I messed up? I cried inside with joy and sadness mashed into one, and these people were circling around like a dream I’ve never dreamed but secretly dreaming about.
“Come closer, I don’t want your shoulder to get wet”
I was looking for a silver lining. I thought about all the missed opportunities I consciously knew I missed. I was making deliberate choices that would dodge myself from these kind of bullets. Who would’ve known what this tough shell felt, who would’ve known this mushy soft thing inside a steel-like fortress?
I was an alien to my own scheme.
On that walk to remember, I could feel the ice melted. Slowly. Gently. Like that coffee in Cambridge when I fell into the arms of a beautiful stranger. When I let my guards wander around the river without any damn second thought. Who needed any band-aid when I could let myself loose? Who needed any extra boost when I didn’t care if I could protect my own immunity?
But St Petersburg was beautiful in its own way.
It was a reminder that I never loved anyone less than they deserve.
It was these old buildings with a certain Caucasian, Russian charm. This lovely Georgian Khachapuri that was as big as boats. The Kharcho that warmed my heart. We were in a long, long lines that seemed never ending, 3 hours of taking turns queuing, then I said to myself later on,
“I once thought Louvre was better”.
The Hermitage was worth all the long wait, and I hope you are no more than my Louvre…
…with one request — don’t taint my Hermitage with a Mona Lisa smile.
It’s been hard to write about 2017. I have delayed this writing for about 2 months since I promised myself that I’d finish it by New Year’s Eve – yet here I am, in a coffee shop on a Saturday afternoon, slowly aching to assemble my memories.
Maybe I’d rather not finish 2017.
Maybe that’s the reason why it was so hard to put into words.
I ended 2016 with a high note.
The first few months into my new job and everyone was already satisfied with my work. I had a great team, a great boss, and I was heading into a great new adventure – in short, I couldn’t wait to start 2017.
And, boy was it a good start.
Who would’ve thought that I’d be an expat by the time I’m 25 years old?
I couldn’t have had better people to accompany me in all the busy-ness of moving in. I had 36 hours of Wednesday, and by Friday I was already in Gigi’s car when she drove me around Boston and Cambridge. My heart swelled with pride as I pictured the 2011 me walking at Stuart St, my first snow shower, my heart broken by a guy somewhere across the world, and I promised myself that I’d come back to this city although I didn’t know how.
I caught myself smiling while eating Chinese takeout in a cold mid-February winter.
Everything that followed was too good to be true. But it was true. Somehow God decided to align every stars for a fresh a new start. Somehow God pressed a pause button on my life, and I was put in a ‘perpetual happiness’ mode. It was as if God said, “You’ve been having rough journeys. Here’s your reward, enjoy it while it lasts”.
Some of my friends asked me how it felt to start living in a new country, so far away from home without any acquaintance around, and I tell you, that was actually one of the best feelings in the world. I was free to be myself, in a world who knows nothing about me. The world whose judgment I couldn’t care less, and in that world, I didn’t have to pretend to be anything I was not.
Needless to say it didn’t take much time for me to get accustomed to my new home. I moved to a beautiful apartment in an 18th-century brownstone building in the coveted area of Back Bay, and ever since then, my life was in a constant travel mode.
I spent my 25th birthday in two cities: Boston and Atlanta. My boss didn’t know that it was my birthday weekend, and when he knew, he gathered his former team to celebrate in a very Southern restaurant. My first Southern food experience… and I had that slice of carrot cake too 😉
Work-wise, honestly it wasn’t too much of a hassle, despite the fact that there were so many changes in the Digital business I was assigned in. Everyone was trying to catch up with the everlasting quest to understand the latest guidelines. But compared to the work I did in Asia, be it in this company or my former companies, I can testify that for the same level in the corporate ladder, workload in the US is easier compared to what I had back home. And I felt like everyone actively tried to enforce the work-life balance. Senior-junior interactions were more loose, I could be more open to push new ideas, and I never felt like my presence was not being validated despite having less experience in the industry.
Being assigned as a GME (Global Mobility Employee) also allowed me to take courses that are normally conducted in the US. It was hard to get approvals for it since I was based in Asia, thus travel costs would be much more expensive. Utilizing my then-current location, of course I enrolled. And of course it was awesome.
If anyone asks what is my best CLP moments, I’ll definitely put Power Plant Fundamentals course as one of those. Not the course itself, but that rare moment when I felt like I was truly a part of such global community. Look at that picture above, we have like 10 nationalities represented there! The camaraderie was there, the togetherness, and even though we’re all going to graduate in a couple of months, I’m glad to know that these people are always going to be my friends in another part of the world.
I was also very fortunate to be able to attend a course at Crotonville. Now, for anyone who doesn’t know what Crotonville is, it is basically the beacon of leadership and management practices of GE that any GE employee would be honored to get a chance to have a taste of it. LOL so excessiveeeeee but, come on, it’s a really beautiful place (did I mention full of food) that enabled active learning and accelerated the formation of fresh ideas.
And of course I had to make a little detour to Washington, D.C. and visited it for the second time after 2011!
Now let me tell you, my friend. When you had too much fun, the universe would most likely conspire to make you have it less. Because the world is not made to nourish human happiness. The world is.just.freaking.cruel. Nothing you can do or say will ever change the fact that you are NOT ALLOWED to be in a constant state of happiness. Therefore, May 2017 witnessed the formation of some ugly foreseeable future which everyone in my class despised to the bone.
Thus began the start of a whirlwind journey into the abyss of dismay and regrets.
But before that, let’s just go to Mexico.
Because I could.
Monica was undoubtedly my best travel partner of the year! We had the same interests: food, museums/palaces/gardens, and always on the hunt for beautiful pictures…. For instagram. For our mothers who were always worried that their daughters would somehow turn into a drug dealer and they needed proof that we were okay. For our mothers’ social media. Basically for everyone who was concerned. We even came back during golden hour to this Palacio just to snap the best light. And suddenly the dark grey sky cleared into a beautiful ray of golden sunlight….. that disappeared right after we finished taking photos. Such a magical moment.
I didn’t skip fasting in Mexico, but still somehow managed to taste all the good food. Tacos, mule, nachos, BEST CHURROS in the world, and let me tell you that Burritos didn’t actually come from Mexico. I’ll stop right here before I get more and more hungry.
June ended with a slice of home in the faraway land. Somehow I managed to find a bunch of other Indonesians in town and bonded over a lowkey Lebaran celebration. Libertyyyy after 18-hours of fasting everyday!
After Lebaran, it was the month when I did everything solo. Inhaled in the deepest breath. Took everything to heart because I wanted to treasure all those feelings in a safe vault that I’d preserve in a cute little corner of my heart, as a reminder that I was, and I hope I can still be, happy. Took pictures because I needed some proof that good mornings did exist. Crossed everything off my bucket list while I still could. And enjoyed every hike of the temperature before things got colder… figuratively.
And one last icing on the cake before things start going downhill…..
I think this is a good time to start talking about Kelly and Mary Beth. They are two beautiful souls who accompanied me through the ups and downs that you would not see… cause it’s behind these pictures that only captured my happy moments. Mary Beth was my landlord, and she’s the kindest landlord of all the kindest landlord. She introduced me to Kelly, and I had been going upstairs to Kelly’s apartment ever since then. We got together for Meditation Mondays. I hugged my “pink pillow” when I felt like life wasn’t fair. And throughout these encounters, they echoed some of the things that I’ve long forgotten about myself. Some of the things that I could only feel when I was finally detached from my baggage of sadness, loneliness, or everlasting strive to be excellent when I was home in Indonesia. Never had I felt that I was free to be whatever I wanted to be. And it’s, sadly, very rare to have someone telling me that I am good. That I am enough, and I don’t have to be so hard on myself.
You are doing a huge service to our world. When you feel stress it is not from inside of you. It is from the imbalances in our world. What is inside you, Marsha, is a pure joy.
I was very sad to leave these two people I love. If there was anyone who made Boston felt like home, it’s them. I hope they are happy. I hope they know that they have taught me how to love myself better. And I hope they know, that when I feel sad, I look at that painting of Beacon Street I put on my desk and I think of them.
We had a lovely early dinner at BPL courtyard, took take-outs from Dig Inn.
There’s this scene I remember afterwards. I was on board a Delta flight before taking off. I was on a window seat, and two passengers beside me were a mother and her daughter. I was about to have one of the saddest break down of my life when the daughter called someone on the phone (presumably her aunt whom she spent summer with) and sobbed uncontrollably,
“I don’t want to leave. Can you hear me? I just don’t. Let me go back to you and (a baby’s name). I’m not ready for school yet. I’m happy with you (the aunt’s name). Please please just take me back. I can’t do this, I don’t wanna leave, I’ll leave this plane, I still have time, okay??”
I was like, heck, I wanted to be sad but this girl was even sadder. Her mom had to comfort her when the flight attendant asked her to turn off her phone and she refused. She cried and cried afterwards.
I felt like she was there as an affirmation that I was allowed to be sad. I put on my headphone, slowly pretended to look out of the window when that damn “Leaving on A Jet Plane” song played out of nowhere. I swear it was that song on my headphone. And I cried.
A good 10-minutes passed after I continuously sobbed, then something happened.
There was a baby in front of my seat. She somehow turned to me on her mother’s lap and touched me. She freaking touched me. When I looked up, she had the most angelic, reassuring smile ever. And in that instance, I knew it was over. I knew I had to move on, so I smiled back.
This is such a long overdue post, but this Sunday is a beautiful summer afternoon and I’ve just come back from (possibly) the last place listed on my where-to-go list and I just can’t find any other excuse not to pour my overwhelming feelings into writings.
Never in my wildest dreams I’ve ever thought of being an expat at this very young age of 25. And when everyone in my program is supposed to go to Atlanta, Boston was the least expected city to go to. I admit it didn’t go very well in terms of the assignment itself, bumps here and there, but I couldn’t be more thankful that out of so many cities and countries I could possibly go to, God just purposefully placed me in Boston, Massachusetts.
For me, Boston has been a city of firsts. This is the first foreign city I stepped my feet into, back in 2011 (interestingly, it was also mid-February). The city where I first saw snow, my first exposure to international atmosphere, my first flight abroad, and the first time my heart broke so bad until I turned it into a sweet, personally-enriching revenge. And now my feelings can only grow deeper towards this city that has hosted me gracefully for the past 6 months.
I feel like God has pressed a “pause” button in my life from February to August 2017.
This is the period where I could really be me and focus all the attention to myself.
I’ve had a lot of soul-searching and soul-crushing moments before, but these past 6 months have definitely awaken my long-lost spirit. Exploration. Child-like glee of venturing into the unknown. Thirst for knowledge. Appreciation. Self-awareness. Saying yes. Unafraid of uncertainty. Free to be me. Forgive myself for everything that I cannot be. Discovery. Redefining who I am and what I want. Ignore other people’s expectations. Surrender into the darkness and lightness of time. Understanding my weaknesses. Allow myself to feel raw emotions. See the best in people. Excited, instead of being anxious, of what the future holds. Be grateful for all the blessings bestowed upon me. And lastly, telling myself that I am enough. That although I can be better,
I am good.
Here, at this very moment of time, I am as good as I can be.
Thank you, Boston.
I promised myself back in 2011 that I would see you again someday. It never crossed my mind that I would’ve returned so soon. Thank you for letting me learn from you a lot more. I wish I could share my happiness with the people I love the most next time. I’ve touched John Harvard’s statue for the second time around now, and I hope you are as hopeful as I am that it will not be my last.
2016 was a risky year. It was always in the verge of missteps and miscalculations, resulting in one of the most dynamic and unpredictable years that modern human beings have ever seen. True to the global trend, my 2016 was also very risky: it once again threw me out of the safe haven.
Today, at the edge of December, I want to reflect back on the huge risk I dared myself to plunge into, and how taking the road less traveled (literally and figuratively), has made all the difference.
By the way, I always create an annual blog post, but I forgot to make one for 2015. I think more or less it’s because 2015 was so flat. I lived my 2015 in an autopilot mode. Turns out that in crafting a career, you need something else that makes you feel fulfilled, even if you have a fantastic paycheck. I kinda had it at the back of my head, but I didn’t dare to do anything about it…. until it was done to me.
Ironically, the suicide spot of a Chinese emperor in Jingshan Hill became a witness for a change of direction.
In a sense, I actually took a calculated risk. A well-calculated one. It wasn’t like the decision to give up everything for Netherlands 2 years ago. This time, it involved opinions from a wide range of people, which produced a sound judgement.
2016 witnessed the decision to leave my coveralls with a heavy heart.
I cherished everyone I met and life lessons learned. Field life changes someone, in one way or another. It taught me to be a better decision makers, to remain calm in high-pressure situation, to foster teamwork with blue collar workers, to prioritize safety, to be a leader in a man’s world, to manage financial issues, and not to mess with integrity. It was a very enriching experience, one that can make you become much, much wiser.
And the friendships made are indispensable.
In the aftermath of this event, I started a new habit – meditation. I joined some yoga classes, and they always had this 5-10 minutes of sitting still. I didn’t know whether I did it right, but there was this one particular session of 30 minutes meditation (I followed videos online) where I was totally absorbed. Then I heard my own inner voice saying,
You are never a failure. You are never a failure.
It touched me so deep until I burst into tears.
From that day on, I revamped my CV, and had this one strong prayer: to be guided into one, only one, right path. I began to question what I would do if I weren’t afraid; what I would choose if I only had myself to satisfy. I had secured some offers that I was still reluctant to accept, but learning from past confusions, I wasn’t good at being given choices. I’d rather being given a choice by God, rather than deciding for myself. Alhamdulillah, Allah heard my prayers.
There are so many things that you will feel once you’re in the track of being a corporate worker. Sometimes things are tough at the office. Sometimes you wonder what it feels like to work in another company. Sometimes you think the work load is too intense. Sometimes you think it’s better if you work somewhere which gives you much more compensation and benefit.
But now, in my 3rd job out of college, having been in worse situation makes it difficult for me to just give up whenever the work load gets tough. At least I’m not alone here in this position, unlike my 1st job. I don’t measure work satisfaction based on money as the sole criteria anymore, because I’ve been in a situation where I can get money easily with half the effort, and still feel like there’s something missing. I also realize that I LOVE international atmosphere, even with late night (or early morning) conference calls. Plus, I enjoy business trips. :p I think all these lessons extracted from my previous job experiences contribute a lot in making me a happier person, professionally.
2016 was also a year packed with travel times, be it for business or for pleasure. I’m so thankful to be able to step my feet in so many cities this year: Kuala Lumpur, Xi’an, Beijing, Shanghai, Hangzhou, Seminyak + Ubud (Bali), Dubai, Budapest, Seoul, Surabaya, Sabang, and Banda Aceh. I love the stories through the air, friendships made, bucket lists checked, local food tasted, and that feeling of being a tiny-tiny-tiny dot in this huge universe whenever I travel somewhere I’ve never been before. I will let these pictures do the talk 😀
My favorite trip? Tough question, but I think I’ll pick China. It’s my first backpacker-style trip, and being able to go to a country without any guide, where you literally have to figure everything out by yourself, is amazing. My twin brother is my best travel mate for sure, and I’m really looking forward to travel together with him somewhere in the near future!
The Love Department is the only underperforming part of 2016, which is understandable because you can never have it all at the same time 🙂 But it doesn’t mean that this year hasn’t brought much improvement: it is, after all, a year when I learned the important fact that I don’t have to be sorry for who I am. There are always people who just don’t want to be with you, and it’s not because you are too much of a good thing. Likewise, I learned that empowerment is also about accepting the fact that you have to let go of someone, or something, who doesn’t give you added value anymore. I am so depressed by being a single 24 years old girl, I am so longing to find someone to make me believe that not every man has the intention of hurting people they love, but I finally realize that my happiness is not dictated by someone else who fills a void in me. Allah knows that I will never love someone halfheartedly… that I need to be my whole self before I’m ready to live a life with someone who is destined for me. I’m too fragile – as I’ve always been – and perhaps having the time and space reserved for myself is the only way to restore the faith that is lost towards the opposite gender.
At the end of the day, 2016 is that one year where you’re finally be able to see the big picture, look back through the rearview mirror and understand that everything happens for a reason… and everything that happened actually makes sense. Subhanallah.
2017 is already peeking through my Inbox *wink 😉 and I have high hopes that it will turn into an even more fantastic year for all of us.
The last time I ever felt that deep, soothing, embarrassing, red feeling of non-quantifiable warmth seeping, like from afar, yet it inhumed every doubt I ever had in the past 548 days before. It was extremely delicate and light that seemed too perfect to be readily available by my very eyes. I thought that perhaps, the odds were finally in my favor… but what was ethereal, I learned, should be treated cautiously. If it was surreal, it was probably never real.
Of course it wouldn’t end in an Eden filled with blooming flowers and colorful leaves. Of course it was doomed. Of course someone ate the forbidden fruit.
Of course I was wrong.
Grief that was carefully concealed, moved to the land of possibilities. The entire performance was imbued with sparkle and elan, until finally someone needed a fresh air to breath. To think. To realize that the malefic seed was gnawing every last drop of confidence that was seriously crafted.
You can put faces outside, soaked in a beautiful blue lagoon, sip the finest cocktails, enjoy the most luxurious box of chocolates. But the hollow, the cavity, that concave little hole of shit, is not to be treated with a drugstore receipt. A profound understanding of why and how it happened, the consequences, the possible treatment, the alternatives, are to be considered in a well, thoughtful manner.
You could be ruined beyond repair.
Until the point that what was once nifty piece of work seems to be dull and outdated. The idea is obsolete. The people are assholes. And everything associated with this beautiful grace is in no way more than cock-and-bull story. It was magical, it is still supposed to be magical, but your senses are telling you that it is all unreal.
Roots of bitterness clasp you hard enough to break your conviction. That at the end of the day, the world is nourishing human loneliness. Just what is the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all in the pilgrimage of soul-searching, tumbled across roses filled with thorns.
Someone will be at the end of this tunnel, waiting to restore the belief that is lost, to show another person that love and compassion are still alive, and very much relevant. Everyone else is enjoying this sweet delicacy — it is not a privilege.
It truly should not be a privilege. It’s supposed to be a basic human right that is not too difficult to access.
Only wish for one thing: no more pyrrhic tales. Please. Make real-life halcyon days a reality.
Rest well, lovely souls. If I can, I will put you in my prayers. Good night.
These days, I got so fed up with these noises in my daily life:
Why don’t you have a boyfriend?
Guys are intimidated by you. (or some variations of you’re too smart/too accomplished/too irritating/too outspoken/too blah blah blah)
You need to get married really, really soon.
You’re going to have a tough time raising kids if you’re not pregnant by the time you’re 24/25/26.
You’re too picky. Way too picky. You have an unattainable standard.
Don’t be a workaholic/Don’t be career woman. Women are meant to settle down.
[Somebody’s mom] has a son and he’s ready to get married, let me introduce you…
[A random, out of nowhere someone] is single, [matchmaking begins]
You know what? I’m sick of this. It makes me feel like I’m a total failure just because I have no boyfriend, no solid plan of getting married in the near future, have no idea or time or money to invest in meeting someone, and basically not adhering to society’s standard.
I’m sick of failed relationships because I’ve had my fair share of broken hearts and I’m traumatized by that. I’m sorry, but that happens. Love is basically an unwanted byproduct. I know I have to settle down someday and I have to accept anyone who comes into my life when it has reached its own “cut-off”, but not right now, no?
I mean, come on, people. I’m 24. It’s not like I have my life stops here — my life has just begun. And I just want to live it in my own pace, peacefully.
Alas, society’s expectations always affect me profoundly.
But now, it’s time to take charge. It’s time to take into account the things that I can control. After all, I can do so much and let go of the rest. Love is uncontrollable, because it’s never logical. Somebody just pops out from somewhere, and I seriously cannot plan when and how and with whom I do fall in love with. So after a series of depressing deliberations, I finally set my mind, body, and soul into this one thing:
My objective is to make 2016 – 2018 my new 2011 – 2013.
The timing and circumstance is just strikingly similar: international atmosphere, a painful recovery from a broken heart, single as fuck, pumped up with ambitions, and generally happy and content with myself. The last time I did this, I had one of my best revenges. Heartbreaks have always been my start of something amazing.
Because I want to show the people who hurt me that they were wrong… that I wasn’t just a waste of space.
I know I will always have this soft side where I know I can never be enough by being with myself, but at least I’ll have it right:
Aren’t you supposed to be with the best person when you have transformed into the best version of yourself?