FOR ONE WEEK IN LOVE

She’s the only one who has ever been my lover. I still remember that day fate brought us together, she picked me who had no love, like the miracle, she chose to me.

FOR ONE WEEK IN LOVE

Still in the same clothes as last year when she was a girl, but today the clothes are worn out where every tangle of yarn looks fragile. The same veil he wore evoked memories of old passion when we were still in love. Today, though the dust is so easy to perch it still looks very beautiful. But what is she doing here? Did not I tell you that you do not want to see her face again, how dare she! No one has ever muddled as an enemy had the courage to see me again, and once again a theory collapsed by her. Here the place I can’t avoid, in the office where I have to serve professionally. She could not accept the word no, but how carefully she calculated the weakest side of the castle I made from the rubble of conquest.

“I need help.” She said. I stared at her increasingly gaunt face.

“Write your request in this paper.” I handed her a blank piece of paper.

She smiled happily, “I’ll leave it to you at eight o’clock where we used to meet.”

Even when she in need of help, she can still dictate, really terrible. Extraordinary confidence deserves to be respected, even though I have learned to hate her.

But my figure has changed, I have learned. In the past, whatever your cheats, no matter what you are. Until whenever I will be faithful. “Write the paper, otherwise it will not be forever!” This time I said firmly.

Her face flushed, “Okay” she relented and wrote something. “This is my number.” She said as she handed the paper into my hand.

I shook my head reading the writing. “Delete that, write an address. Your request will be sent via mail.” I took a deep breath.

“I concede today because I still need your help.” She grunted. Who is she? Even at times like this can threaten me.

She got up, “Thank you when everyone does not care about me, I know you’ll help me.” She knew the deepest weakness of me, clothed with anger.

“You think this help is free!” Her face surprised but implied happy aura there, she wants this story continues. No, I will not give it a chance. “Other times if you need help, do not ever come again to beg for my help. This is quite the last one, I really do not want to see you again.” Cloudy on her face, the only lifelong victory I’ve ever won from her.

“Sorry, I do not know. Really do not know has hurt you very much.” She finally left, arises a little compassion in my heart but a moment to memories of my mind where I was surprised at her cunning, how silently the slippery sense of a woman is able to defeat the logic of the smartest man, with a great play beyond the creation of even the greatest director.

However I have to help her because I never really hate her, this life has ever led me to many failed and rejection. Only she whoever received me, even just a week, even though she was finally betrayed me. She’s the only one who has ever been my lover. I still remember that day fate brought us together, she picked me who had no love, like the miracle, she chose to me. It was she who shaped my present character who became a human being alerted to all the smiles of women, which made me suspicious of women’s cries. Like a blacksmith is she the only one who forges my heart into steel. So for that, I must help her, as a devotion to the teacher. For a week-old love, where in the past I owe it on time. But for that, I have to wear a mask, to protect my face from the dust. To hide my tears because it is inappropriate for a man to show his weakness, especially if it gets twice so it can’t keep his pride.

Tonight when I meet her request, wrapping up his wish to post tomorrow. I pressed the paper without reading again. Let the writing never settle in my brain memory. Her presence restored memories of the past, realizing that alone I am, it was very quiet. And I used to want to have a family with her. The past is past, it’s gone. The one who should return the smile on her face is not me. She has chosen and should take responsibility for her decision first. I will definitely become stronger, then find a loved one, to live a happy life.

Fighting for love to be betrayed is better, rather than later regret not trying with all my heart, rather than doing nothing. Even death is better than a regret.

Lhokseumawe, April 4, 2009

Translate From Bahasa: Kepada Cinta Yang Berumur Seminggu

XXX

More stories:

  1. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT; 3 August 2008;
  2. FOREVER, I KNOW THERE IS NO LOVE FOR ME; 22 August 2008;
  3. JUST FOR YOU; 14 December 2013;
  4. ALI AND MALENA, A LOVE STORY; 11 April 2017;
  5. BHISHMA’S DEATH; 21 April 2017;
  6. PLEASE, DO NOT LET ME LOVE HER; 2 May 2017;
  7. LETTER TO LISA; 9 June 2017;
  8. SOLEMN; 19 June 2017;
  9. OH MAN, I COMPLETELY DON’T KNOW YOU; 23 July 2017;
  10. ALL FOR THE SAKE OF LOVE; 12 August 2017;
  11. THE MEANING OF NOSTALGIA; 12 October 2017;
  12. A NOTE FROM A LOSER; 10 November 2017;
  13. IS THIS LOVE; 25 October 2017;
  14. HARLEQUIN AND THE TREE OF HOPE; 13 November 2017;
  15. LOOKING FOR THE PATH TO THE LIGHT; 21 November 2017;
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About tengkuputeh

Cepat seperti angin // Tekun seperti hujan // Bergairah seperti api // Diam seperti gunung // Misterius seperti laut // Kejam seperti badai // Anggun seperti ngarai // Hening seperti hutan // Dalam seperti lembah // Lembut seperti awan // Tangguh seperti karang // Sederhana seperti debu // Menyelimuti seperti udara // Hangat seperti matahari // Luas seperti angkasa // Berserakan seperti debu //
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