I know a girl. She’s a fighter.

Not only in life, but to people. She said it’s her curse for being a person who’s too honest. She can pick a fight to anyone who rages her, betawi wankers down the street, asshole who’s harrasing her in wet market, bus driver and the kenek.. Even in her office, if she feels her boss been troubling her, she would say it to his face. She said she hated it so much for being so upfront, she wanted to change but she can’t help it. The worst kind of fight that damages her the most, is the one with her mother. She said she loves her mother she would kill anyone who hurts her, so when her mother hurts her heart, she then feels like killing herself because of the broken heart. She said she’s doing better now, 7 years ago, she really did attempt suicide every after the fight, now all she did was shutting her room and cried until she falls asleep.. and not talking to her mother for days.

I know she’s trying her best, she’s getting better these days, time by time. She said it’s because of me, probably. I knew her 8 years ago when we were still in college, I was in Kuala Lumpur but sometimes I went to Jakarta for holiday and meet my mother. I met her for the first time in McDonald’s. I remember her being so boyish, unlike her girlfriends. She was also so relaxed, ignorant and tell jokes all the time. At first I was being intimidated by her presence, but she was so funny and I’m starting to enjoy her being around. She doesn’t speak much to me, but when she does, it’s always the thing that gets me thinking. I remember her craving for broccoli & cheese at wendy’s, so we went there, and before she ate it, she said, “Isn’t it lovely when you can get the things you want when you want it? I wish everybody can have that.” 

I started to keep thinking about her.

Later I know, she had so much problems in her life. Later I know she’s unhappy, apart from all her jokes. She doesn’t explain much about her trouble, sometimes she went into my house to study for her test. She just came, sit in my porch and dwell in her books, when I asked why, she said, her house doesn’t allow her to have quietness. So I shared my hemp to make her chill for a moment. By days, she kept coming to my house, and when she didn’t come, I called her and asked her to. I like her company, we smoke weed in my balcony and watch the sky and rambling about random things, we are connected and I like being connected with her.

I told her I like David Lynch, I like Stanley Kubrick, I like The Smiths and Chet Baker, and she listens to all the stupid crap I have said. I told her that life is weird, and she laughs and said, “It’s not life, it’s people.” 

She used to hurt herself everytime she’s in pain, she loves to cut. She said the day after she cut herself, the wound is starting to sore and itch, she said, “It’s like breathing, starts to alive,” and she loves that feeling. The worst cut I’ve seen was done with glass piece after she throws one crystal glass in my room, she crawls while crying and started to push and stroke its biggest piece to her chest. She said you should never push too deep to a flesh, just scratch your skin here and there until the red lines appear all over her skin. Then she stopped crying, and smiled. We had a fight before, I was jealous with her being so promiscuous with her friends, so I hit her. I felt so guilty after. She was so good in fucking with my mind.

She disappeared after that night. By times, I started to move on, I went back to Kuala Lumpur and resuming my school. Couple years later I heard from my friend who is also her friend, that she had Borderline Personality Disorder. She just discovered the symptoms and had several sessions with her shrink about that. She was only telling one person about that, which was the friend who then told me. I tried to call her just to check how she was doing, but she never pick up the phone. So I stopped calling.

A year later, I went back to Jakarta, and accidentally running into her in the mall. It was in 2005. I asked her for dinner instantly, just to catch up things. I have no other intention, I’m seeing someone else that time. She said she just broke up with her drug dealer boyfriend, and that her father has just passed away. I told her about my post graduate plan to live in Sydney because there’s a job offer there. We talked about our friends. At some point I asked her, “How do you feel?” and she smiled and said, “Like, living a life. Just like you.”

I took her home after dinner and say goodbye because I’m going to Sydney in couple days after.

Three years after struggling a happy money-less life in Sydney, I went back home to Jakarta. This one is for good. I got a job and some projects from my Kuala Lumpur colleagues. It’s easier to deal with them from Jakarta.

I’ve been wondering on how she’s been, but never got the nerve asking. I heard from my friend that she’s still working in advertising and rumor said she’s becoming creative director. I’m glad hearing she’s doing good. I googled her one time and found out she’s also doing photography. I was stunned seeing her works, I feel like knowing her the first time again. This is not the girl I used to know. She seemed to be so full of hopes and filled with dreams, I’m judging her by her works. I’ve been so curious about how she is, she is in my YM contact and everytime she logs in I always feel like it’s a bell ring I should check. So many times I’ve typed, “Hey,” but never send it to chatroom. Until one time I typed that “Hey,” again and hit enter without thinking. It was two months after I move in to my mother’s house in Jakarta.

At first, I saw her typing back in the chat, but nothing came up for at least 10 minutes. So I know she’s writing something but then changed her mind. Then she typed back a “Heey,”. I asked her, “Is this a wrong time?”, and she said, “Maybe. I’m a bit mess right now,” I asked, “May I know why?” She said, “You seriously wanna know?” .. “You can tell anything to me if you want. Maybe I can help.” and she said, “I want to. Miss talking to you, but it’s a long story. I wish you’re in Jakarta so we can just meet,”.. “I am in Jakarta.” … “Really? Wow. Hey, care for a beer tonight? I need beer.” I said yes, and that’s how it began again.

She taught me about life, I also taught her about life. We learn from each other, there are countless times she’s inspiring me to be true to myself and do things from the heart without giving a damn to people who couldn’t understand. She makes me feel less weird. She’s as hard as a rock, her life is bitter like the last time I knew of, she said she found her turning point after her father’s death, to recover from disorientation and quit heavy drugs. And by that time, it’s her brother turn to be mentally sick, and it’s even worse than what she had.

She introduced me to her problems, to her mother, her brother. She let me in to her life, and it’s the most meaningful two years of my life. She made me want to be a better man, she kept me moving on, she made me want to celebrate, in happiness and sadness.

She’s so spacey, fearless, and broken inside.

She once wandering in the graveyard, in the middle of the night, looking for her lost cat. She said she had a feeling that the cat was dead somewhere in there, and she was right. She has strong hunch to almost everything.

One time, I took her to the sea, she couldn’t stop singing through the songs on our 7 hour trip. We slept in the car, we eat instant noodles and lontong when we starve, we smoke and we drink vodka like water. She danced alone everytime I took her to the coast, she climbed tree, she climbed to the highest point of the valley and sit on the tip of it, and hummed. She likes to close her eyes and smile and pretend that I’m not there. She loves heights, she said, just like she loves depths. I knew she was never someone who belong to the ground. The wind was crazy that time, I told her to go back to the car to avoid wind damp, but she said, she likes wind. She doesn’t care of being sick because of it, as long as she’s happy because of it. She said, “Just like love,”

I like how she smells. I like how her hair falls down, I like the way her fingers run through her hair while she talks to me. Sometimes I asked her to just sit still and let me sniff her smell, her body, her neck, between her breasts, her crotch. I like her taste, her skin. She has too many freckles in her right arm that I love to picked. I like how she hold my head, my shoulder, the way she look at me.. She always gives me this floaty feeling, makes me feel light.

She once pay a stripper for me, in my birthday. She said, “I’m fat and I feel sad for you fucking this fat woman all the time. So here’s a nice looking woman for you, you can only watch her.. But if you ever want to fuck her, don’t do it behind me. Just say it, I’ll understand,” - I was laughing so hard that time, she has this cute innocent silly face everytime she say things like that. Of course I didn’t do it, all those things she did even turns me on more to her.

I don’t know whether this is a coincidence or not, but she always cheers me up in the right time. When I just lost a project, she sent me hilarious YouTube link. When I have conflict in work and in awful mood because of that, she texted me something stupid that she just did. When traffic drains my patience, she called me and tell me all the sillyness she had that day. All she did was random she said, once she sent me voice message with her singing Alicia Keys song acting all blues with high pitch voice, she said she was pretending to be in American Idol and ask for my judgement about her voice. Or she once danced like crazy on bed, jumping around to Sigur Ros’ Gobbledigook and acting out like a possessed ballerina, and then fell off and cracked her toe bones, so we have to call a masseuse to fix that. Too many things she did and it is always her, always her who makes me happy.

We were financially broke sometime ago, and she doesn’t mind us eating eggs and tempe for daily meal. Sometimes she didn’t eat at all, there are days when she doesn’t like food, and days when she can’t stop eating.

One time she went on a meeting and I told her to use bus and only use cab if she’s coming home late after 10 pm.. and she went home at 1 am, with angkot. I asked why she doesn’t use cab, it’s so late and not safe to use public transport at this hour. She put down two plastics of soto betawi while grinning, and said, “You were craving for soto betawi Mayestik. I was passing Mayestik, so here you go. Come on, let’s eat,” - She preferred to use her cab budget to buy me soto betawi.

And these last weeks she manages a donation program for homeless and pesantren in Tangerang. She mentioned it once, she said she does that with her mother. It’s a non-profit program. She never cease to amaze me, she is running out of money, and on the other hand she helps other people to have some money.

She’s also doing research and brainstorm with me for a couple of times on how to facilitate the mentally dysfunctional people who don’t have enough money for treatments. I told her it’s almost impossible to implement the ideas with condition we are in now, we are no millionaire, but she said she likes impossible things.

That’s her. Sometimes she thinks too much, sometimes she doesn’t think at all.

These days, after we separated, her financial is getting worse. I am too, still I try to help her as best as I can and she oftenly refuses. She said, “I troubled you too much. Please don’t make me owe you,” … It’s her classic excuse, she’s always like that. I told her to get a day job, I offer her the Director of Photography position in my friend’s production house, she said she doesn’t know if that is what she wants. Her mother have been suggesting her to go back at the agency she used to work, but then again, she doesn’t know if she wants that. She keep doing a couple photography projects, but the money is not much.. and by time I noticed, she probably also bored doing it. She’s the most person who gets easily bored that I know of, but I never thought she’s gonna be this bored. I want her to be happy and excited about something again, whatever it is, but she said that she’s losing interest in anything. Her passion who used to be strong is washed-out, I don’t know what to do to make her feel alive again.

One night I asked her, “What do you want?” .. and she didn’t say anything. I said, “You need to live. Make a living.” .. and she looked at me, said, “.. Maybe.”

Then I got a call for a project in Brazil, the country I’m heading now. I believe this will be a good leap to me, plus I need the money. Plus, this could be a good chance for me to be alone and introspecting myself, all the mistakes I’ve done to her. I have this weakness with emotion, I’m admitting it. I’m emotional and when I’m mad, she has been more than patient treating my wrath. I tend to be an asshole who beat the fuck up the person he knows won’t have a heart to hate him, and that person is her. I’m that miserable. I’m that evil. I keep forgetting that she has too many people hurting her, and while I should be the one who take care the most of her, I end up be the one who hurt her more and more.

(Wow.. I can’t believe I just said that. All this time I never have the strength to admit that.)

And she also strongly suggested me to take the offer, so I think this might be the best chance we got.

Life has been sweet these past days. Me and her, we do so much things together. She took care of me when I was sick, and I cooked for her once I recover. She helped me packed, I help her with her house. I took an absent from my work in Jakarta so I can prepare better for Sao Paulo. I flew to Medan to visit my father, she accompanied me too, plus my old man always love her anyway. She has been the bestest friend, the best person in my life.

Sometimes she let me lovemaking her, sometimes we just fell asleep together. I was glad to see her contentness. .. Until my last night in her room.

We were watching movie and made love in the middle of it. She was wild, she bit my arms, my thighs, my shoulder, my ears, my lips til it bleeds, and after she’s done, she cried for a while. I didn’t say anything, sometimes I never know what to say to her. She went out to grab something from the kitchen, that’s what she said. And a couple of minutes later, I heard the garage door slides open, and her mother’s car’s engine ignites. There were no one else in the house that time, her mother is out. I walked outside, she was in the car, naked. She glanced at me and drove away. I didn’t know what to do, I was panicked as hell. I don’t know what she has in mind, I pray to God it wasn’t something stupid or desperate. I look for her phone and I couldn’t find it in the house, I hope that means she brought it with her, so I called. No one’s picking up.

I called her for hours. No responses.

I was this close to screaming. She’s not wearing anything, and driving, after she’s crying, after a goodbye sex. What should I think? I don’t know what to do.

Then she finally picked up my call. Her voice was weak and trembling, she said she’s in a toll exit near Serpong. I told her to come home, she didn’t say anything. So I took a cab to pick her up. After a hard time searching where the car is (She didn’t pick up the phone again), I found it. Parked in the side of the street, not far from a toll exit. I knock the door and asked her to let me in, she unlocked it then move to the passenger seat. She didn’t say anything, she just curled up her naked body, hold her legs and sit in fetal position, towards me. Her eyes are swollen and her cigarettes are unfinished. I don’t know where to start asking her about what the fuck is on her mind that time, I’m just glad she’s with me, so I drove back home. 

I wrapped her in blanket when we’re home. She went straight to bed and continue curling up her body there. I made her hot chocolate and sit next to her. I told her to look at my face, she did. Then she asked, “Am I crazy?” and the way she look at me really breaks my heart. I said, “Everybody is.” .. She smiled a little. I asked her carefully, “What do you want? .. Tell me.”

She took a while to answer. “For you to be happy.. This (Me working in Brazil) is what I want.”

“Okay, let me rephrase.. What makes you happy now?”

She stared, lost. Blankly. I waited for her, to answer. But she never did.

So here I am. In 8 hour transit, in Schiphol airport, Amsterdam.. on my way to Sao Paulo.

I would probably never understand her, what’s on her mind, what does she want.. She has too many talents and keep wasting them because she couldn’t stand doing the same thing over and over again. She has huge passion, it can struck her in seconds, but it can also leave her in seconds. Sometimes she’s so invincible and sometimes, she’s a beautiful mess. But if she wants me to take the job, then I’m doing it. I’m doing this for her. And as Plan A, I need the money, and the time to train myself being a better man for her.

Because I love her, I don’t care if she’s not mine anymore. I don’t care if apparently one day I couldn’t marry her like I always want to. She keeps me going, and that is just what I need in life.

- Amsterdam, 8 hour transit.