Jogja has a similar vibe like Paris. It's the city of love. To be in love, to be out of love, to question love.
Night at Jogja is mellow. The city light is dim, the neighbourhood is quite and the cloud stays heavy and grey. But once you reach Malioboro, it's a bursting of feeling. The crowd excites you, the food stalls tempt you to commit a "sin" or two. Its festivity is contagious, inviting you to celebrate the night, lifting up your mood, sending fireworks to your chest. Suddenly, all you can see is colorful faces, drown in laughter and happiness.
I don't know why, but something was weighting my heart. And being at Jogja just complete the unsettling feeling. I didn't really understand what was that about. I felt sad for no particular reason. I felt, out of love.
As our Uber crossing the street of Malioboro one night, I couldn't help but thinking about people in my life. About a guy. There's this guy who has a pair of beautiful eyes. I love the way he look at my eyes whenever we speak. I love chatting with him. I love talking some bullshits with him. We met only twice, but I feel like we've been friends for life. I rarely enjoy accompany of a stranger. He's nothing like a stranger.
I guess, I fell in love with his clear brown eyes. I can't really take them off my mind. Whenever it's raining, I'll be coming back to his eyes. The fact that he's looking into my eyes, like trying to get in and see me. Me.
Hmm, I probably reading this too much.
I recently found out that he has a girlfriend. My heart died a little that day. I've been telling my self that I should not expect anything, expect too much. But I can't lie about how I felt that day. I spent the whole week avoiding the thought of him in my head. It's funny to run away from your own thoughts. And it's tiring.
I remember he loves Jogja so much. I can see it from the excitement of his eyes. Jogja has been a home for him for a couple of years. Even after he moved back to Surabaya with his parents, he left a part of his heart at that city. That city was an unforgettable journey for him. Every corner has its own stories. Bitter or sweet, he embraces both with smile.
I remember being curious. What is it about that city?
Probably, probably I went to Jogja for a mission. To prove him wrong. To prove him that there's not much out of that city. Kind of a revenge cause he made me feel sad whenever I recall his kind eyes, leaving me feeling guilty cause it's none of his fault in the first place. It's all me anyway but still, I need to set this right again.
I don't think I got my revenge after the trip. The only thing I felt was tired. I missed my bed. I missed the cats. I was so tired that I didn't give a fuck about this prove-him-wrong-business any longer. Lesson learnt. Don't sweat yourself for the sake of a revenge to your potential-love-interest-that turned-wrong.
If I ever come back to Jogja again, I want to forget everything and be in love. With the dimmed city light, with the quite neighbourhood and with the heavy clouds that shadowing the building, leaving a mystery in every corner of the street.
