Title is inspired from Judith Brice’s Article
On the evening of 22nd November, I read an excerpt from one of many unpublished stories I kept somewhere in this digital attic, that said, “Forever ends at 21 and at 22, tomorrow is more pressing than copy machine ”. I chuckled, closing the tab and put down my laptop.
My mind drifted to the night when I walked home barefoot with Marta, it has passed the last night bus call and my heels were killing me. It was a cold November night in Bournemouth, I had my favourite red coat on and freshly-bought red shirt paired with a black patterned mini skirt and matching black stocking underneath.
Apart from long walk, my feet hurt from all the dancing and turning at the Whisky bar. It was essentially my home away from home, I knew the barman, bouncer, my university friends were all in the same room. I had worn my confidence on my red lipstick and that night felt infinite.
Fast forward five years later, I was in bed by 10 PM on my birthday eve with a treasure hunt-like drawn map of England that I bought from one of the bookshops in South London, hung on my wardrobe in case one day I woke up with severe concussion, I’d have one prompter of what I once called home.
At precisely when the clock hits 12 midnight, my parents stormed into my room, woke me up with a birthday cake in hand that had a I-heart-you shaped candles and happy 26th our Fiya written in chocolate. Almost in cue, at the end of the first verse of happy birthday song, they both kissed me the cheek.
As part of the birthday formality, I went to the kitchen to get few small plates. I cut the cake in a random sizes for the three of us, and finished only a half slice, replied few texts and calls including from my brother, and excused myself back to bed. My 21 years old version of me wouldn’t be very proud.
In less than six hours later, I had woken up at least three times. Looking at my phone, checking whatever that can be refreshed and tried to go back to sleep. Tried. My mind was too fixated at my phone. What was I looking for? Maybe I was looking for the wishes I hadn’t been able to wish for myself. Maybe I was looking for the appreciation I had been trying to give to myself.
I had nothing to do the rest of the day. I had taken a day off from work just for the sake freedom of doing whatever I wish — only to realise I didn’t have any, I was just in inertia state of being.
I tried to sit down and write the usual reflective post, but this time I wasn’t feeling honest just yet to place everything in perspective. All I could think of how from infinity it ration down to a day full of heighten anxiety. Time is ticking bomb.
My good friends saved me from the bullshit of throwing surprise party what so ever, and letting me chose the place, in which I only require one thing: a place where it serves wine. But maybe, just a maybe, I need that to reignite what it was to celebrated, and knowing whether it was merely a formality or the opposite.
Apart from blowing candles and exploiting free flow wine (I’d do this any day of the year to be honest, but having ‘birthday’ as an excuse is pretty good self-assurance to spend money) at the faux-fancy Indonesian restaurant in Central Jakarta with three of my good friends, the rest of the day felt just as any other ordinary day.
The next morning, after all the anxiety washes off from my skin and I can breathe without any sort of expectations weighing on my shoulder, I tried to get back onto my desk and face my biggest fear — white blank page, then began typing.
I had been forcing myself to be okay on the day that ought to be the happiest, most special day of the year, which only adds immeasurable frustration when I am unable to meet such jolly. When actually it is okay not to. After all, this what makes me human. There will be good and bad days.
The bad days may consist of that feeling of unbearable loneliness even when there are people around me. Often triggered from social media when everyone is posing for their highlight reels and I’m in my pyjamas. It’s very poisonous place, come to think of it. Remind me to spend less time in there, please.
While the good days consist of gratitude and affection. I often forget that the best kind of present, is presence and time. And being able to learn how to be selfless in the most humble and empowering way in the past year, is grand. Not a single social media brag is enough to mount the magnitude of that. And no one else need to know about it, just me, matters most.
I need to remind myself this. Over and over again.
This is water.
***
