Favorite Moment Number Two
Because favorite moment number one is still in progress.
It was Sunday, and it was supposed to be his last day in Jogja. This was his third time visiting me in Jogja over the almost six months of our relationship. I was a bit upset as he said he would probably fly back home next month and stay there until next year. I did not question that idea, I would do the same if I were in his shoes, but I could not be not sad, nevertheless.
We spent all morning cuddling. As two adults bound by culture and religion, that was the best extension we could do; anything beyond that is forbidden and shamed. Boundaries and limitations are actually good tools in this case, as we did not ready for the results of anything beyond lust. Also, we are not rebels.
The mission for today was to find the antigen test so he could go back to Jakarta safely, according to the governance bureaucracy. As I gathered information, it was said that there was a test provided across the Lempuyangan station. We went there midday after checking out from the lodging. But alas, as the information was barely accurate these days, the time for the test was not exactly on point. It was said from 8 am to 6 pm, but in reality, they took a break from 12 to 15. So yes, on to another lab!
We skipped breakfast as he insisted that this was an urgent matter, more important than feeding ourselves even. I did not understand the pressure, but then it was he who travelled, so I just followed his instruction, wholly knowing that I had skipped my medication that morning. In a greater measure, if this disease came back to me again, I would need a stronger dose, but yes, let’s focus on the test first.
There was another lab near the station, but since we had missed the first one, I proposed lunch first. He agreed, but when we arrived at my favorite Soto stall, they were about to close, and as we were about to find another one, the rains suddenly poured, and it was a heavy one in an instant.
I could feel him on edge, but then I assured him that the sudden heavy rain like that would actually stop real quick, based on my eight years of experience in Jogja. He doubted me, but in 15 minutes, the rains went lighter. He rushed us to depart quickly, but I insisted on waiting for another 5 minutes because it was barely done. As guessed, the “second” wave came but only lasted a few minutes. Man, I am such a rain expert.
While waiting, I checked on the other lab, and it turned out that they needed an online registration before the test. Lucky for us, they had plenty of spots for that hour that we immediately signed on. As the sky went brighter, we rushed to the lab. We saw that several people were already there, most of them with luggage. I guessed they were also victims of the “break-time” from the test place across the train station.
He waited in line, quite a long one, but I saw they have few boxes for people to do the test, which means it could take 30 minutes tops. Meanwhile, I was looking for a place for lunch. I was hella starving. As soon as he was done, we headed to the vintage Satay restaurant near Malioboro. Ugh, I could not complain; when someone wrote “the best satay in town” as a review, it was true!
It was around 3 pm, and we had about another 4 hours before his departure. At first, I planned to find a place to hang out near the train station because I was unsure about the weather. But then I asked him whether he wanted to check a place; it was pretty far, but then we did not have anything else to do, so he quickly agreed with me.
So, riding the motorcycle, we went to what is known as the prewedding photo site of the President’s daughter. It was a slow ride, and we enjoyed Jogja much after the rains; it was a little bit chilly and gloomy. I loved it. He showed me places where he lived when he was in Jogja back then in 2018. He showed me the alleys he used to take, the food stalls he used to visit, and many other places. He started an awkward conversation that still surprises me to this day. I am an honest person, shall there be a question, my answer will be the truth and the truth only.
We arrived at the destined establishment only to find out that it was closed on Sundays, but then, it was not, in fact, much to see anyway should it be open. Plus, with the newly applied pandemic regulations, all touristic places under the Jogja government’s auspices should be closed until further notice. It was a gamble all along. We took a couple of selfies, and from there, I let him lead the way since he said he was still familiar with routes and roads. This was the kind of afternoon he told me he loved because we did nothing but talk and ride around the city, the way we interacted the first time and apparently fell in love.
We returned to my lodge to take his stuff that we put earlier in the noon. He agreed to take dinner first on my proposal because I refused to eat dinner alone in my room that night and wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. I am selfish like that, I know. We went to the pork street stalls in front of the UKDW, where I used to go with my siblings. The sidewalk where “the establishment” used to place was under construction, so they moved across the street. It served the pork with Batak stylez.
The seller was playing some Batak music, which I barely cared about at first. In the middle of chewing, he took a deep look at me and then sang along with the song played; he was quite loud.
He was like, “Putus ma komunikasi!!! Konsentrasi au manyusun sikripsi!!!”
I laughed; I did not hear the lyrics well but assumed he made it up. He assured me it was the actual lyrics, and he sang it right. Then he continued singing, “Oh Estelitaaa….” Yep, he changed it to my name when the actual name mentioned was “Esterlina”, which I thought was a bizarre name for a person.
He told me he knew the song because his father played it a lot. He kept singing loudly. It was a fun time; I laughed a lot. He made me laugh, but moreover, he made me fall in love all over again with him. I just remember how sweet he is and how cute his smile is. The song changed, and another song he knew, and he sang, and I was just happy that he smiled a lot and enjoyed the time we had together as a couple.
We decided to leave about a few minutes before 7 pm and head straight to the train station because it started to drizzle. He printed his boarding pass, and we sat down, waiting for the last minute of his departure. I could not say I was sad then because we had utterly lovely and sweet moments since morning, despite the test-hunting. I did not want to ruin it with something cheesy; I just wanted to absorb the moment. The train station scene was very familiar to me, but it never got easier over time.
The thing was, I could not properly see his departure because the window to see the train from the waiting room was small, high, and far. I had to tiptoe. I saw someone waving from afar, whom I believed was him; I smiled, “He is so silly,” I thought. I tried to maintain my tiptoeing; he kept waving to the point I could not see the body, just the waving. He did it until he got on the train, and with his disappearance, I was supposed to leave the station, too. Alone.
Small things he did this day were the reasons I stayed; the extra effort to cheer me up, to make sure I saw him from the distance even if it might embarrass him, or stalling the time so that I did not feel so guilty of not going anywhere.
Anyhow, when he was about to board, I checked my bag one last time to make sure none of his belongings was left with me, but it did. His phone’s adapter was still in my bag, so I took the liberty of calling his name. I knew he hated me calling his name, but well, at this time, as I said, I refused to be cheesy. It was fun, though.
P.S. Okay, when this story was revealed, I realized I did not write this correctly. I maybe have lost my touch in writing, but I will just drop it now and MAYBE rewrite it later, or … meh!
