Ruth Wijaya

Yesterday, my longest friend since our Junior high school, told us that her father has been hospitalised because of cancer. A shocking news as she never said anything to me.

We were on off in contact but we do check on each other regularly, as from my childhood, she is the one that I can still understand and vice versa. We grow up  at our hometown was not that close; I quoted her, because I was too eccentric with my jumping mind and random thoughts. Well, at least there is something that never change 😀 However, when we reconnected again we just knew that no matter how close or how awkward we were in the past, we can be friend forever. She never talk too much, and I talked a lot but she knew that she can stop me and I will listen (if I have to). 

So, her news about her father really shocked me also. I heard nothing. It was like three months ago, she said that they were going on family vacation. After that only information about parents in town, and we cannot going out to have our coffee time. I feel so bad, because I wasn’t checking too often. 

Today, I visited her at hospital and stayed quite long time, to talk about anything. Trying to comfort her but I failed. She is the one who comfort me with all my problems; work – love – life – what I should do in future – retirement coming in a blink for us and I have prepared nothing. We laugh a lot on my stupid rants on finding love. A bit teary because we know, next door, death is lurking.

She said, “we are just buying time”

The cancer has been there for quite sometime, undiscoverable; hiding behind other symptoms and it strikes so fast. I understand that she may need time to break the news to her friends. 

My heart is broken. 

I know, death is certain but still… 

“So, how’s love life?” she asked. I know, talking about me is the safest to avoid sadness 😀 Bluntly I told her, I gave up already, it will just never worked. I tend on wanting someone/something that not meant to be for me. I give up on everything I want but still hang on life that always cheating on me.

“Life is a bitch! Always stealing things I want to keep. Wait, time is also a thief!”

It never death’s fault. Death will never come if life is not there. Then she told me how her mother asked her to find decent white shirt, anticipating funeral. Ohshit.

They are getting prepared but no one will ever ready for a death. No words can comfort her, it’s just useless, yet she said, “you should blogging again, write something. For your jumping mind. Anything.”

“It’s a good idea. Maybe I will challenge myself to write in English?”

“That’s better! You need to channel your anxiety not just on drawing. What happen with you? In the past you wrote a lot, your thoughts, poems, short stories… write again!”

“I don’t know! I just cannot but I will do it today. Maybe, I will writing about you”

“Wow! Great! I can’t wait to read it”

I told her, I should come to comfort her, yet she is the one who comfort me.

“When you help someone, actually you just help yourself. Something like that” her say.

Maybe. 

So I write. In English, messy. Whatever. 

I know that my friend will read it, and that’s what matter.

You, hang in there.