I rarely say it when things are hard, almost never. Through all these years of adulting, the least thing I want to do is wasting my energy on complaining. Especially after automatically being
responsible for so many things. When there’s feeling like I wanted to complain,
I took a deep breath, listen to the same song I listened to from ten years ago,
or when it was too hard, I’d cry myself to sleep. I have basically been unplugging from all the unnecessaries.
All my life, I thought things won’t get any worse than the worst I had, until I had to spent Eid alone here in Papua. I had convinced myself I was fine. The situation is extraordinary and I’m not alone in this. Until the D-day, I woke up early without any sound of takbir so I listened to an online radio streaming because I really miss takbir. Without realizing, tears were streaming down my face. I cleaned the house when it’s still dark, distracting myself. I took a shower and got ready for Eid prayer.
You know how the Eid prayer starts with takbir? I couldn’t control myself. I broke down, silently crying. I didn’t want to wake my friend who was still asleep. I started asking myself what I was doing, praying alone here.
When it’s time for family call. My dad cried so hard as soon as he saw me through the video. I bit my lips so hard, trying not to cry too, because I knew if I cried, that would made him feel worse. I laughed and joked the whole call.
I went to the bathroom as soon as the call ended, promised myself that would be the last tears for the day, dried my eyes and went out like nothing happened.
Let it out, easily said than done. Don’t keep it bottled up, they said. I’d rather keep it in one bottle and work hard to never spill any. I learned the hard way that being weak and vulnerable and being able to show it, is privilege.
All my life, I thought things won’t get any worse than the worst I had, until I had to spent Eid alone here in Papua. I had convinced myself I was fine. The situation is extraordinary and I’m not alone in this. Until the D-day, I woke up early without any sound of takbir so I listened to an online radio streaming because I really miss takbir. Without realizing, tears were streaming down my face. I cleaned the house when it’s still dark, distracting myself. I took a shower and got ready for Eid prayer.
You know how the Eid prayer starts with takbir? I couldn’t control myself. I broke down, silently crying. I didn’t want to wake my friend who was still asleep. I started asking myself what I was doing, praying alone here.
When it’s time for family call. My dad cried so hard as soon as he saw me through the video. I bit my lips so hard, trying not to cry too, because I knew if I cried, that would made him feel worse. I laughed and joked the whole call.
I went to the bathroom as soon as the call ended, promised myself that would be the last tears for the day, dried my eyes and went out like nothing happened.
Let it out, easily said than done. Don’t keep it bottled up, they said. I’d rather keep it in one bottle and work hard to never spill any. I learned the hard way that being weak and vulnerable and being able to show it, is privilege.