rasa-kepala

[rasa-kepala]

#1 clean slate harga mati

I sincerely appreciate the kind of slow love we’re in.

No love-bombs. Our knot is a series of feelings and gentle corrections. But what I treasure the most is how his presence gives me the courage to open up all the untold wounds that shaped me.

There was a time called him on his random dawn (knowing he’s fast asleep) to vent the thoughts that have been lingering while he was at work, or while my nose was stuck in a load of journals.

And I said, “I’m sorry, but I have to tell you what I’m about to tell you.”

And my best man listens, with squinted eyes and a drowsy voice, barely awake.

That exact moment, a huge baggage of emotion that I’ve never shared with anyone, not family, not close friends, not a single soul, slowly slipping through my lips.

Even I questioned whether they were moral or even human. I’ve been scared to say them out loud.

I know I’m not a saint. I’m not God.

I don’t have the power to forgive everything or everyone who’s wronged me.

No matter how deep I’ve tucked it in the back of my mind...

But he listens still.

All the ugly and ironic stories, my decisions, my principles, and the hopes I hold, they all make me, me. In love, and in hate.

If I could take you back in time,

To that night we walked in with a clean slate before deciding where this was going.

(sometimes I wonder if it had just ended up as something casual which, honestly, I’m sure still would’ve been fun)

I'm glad we're married now.

We check in with each other all the time.

“Does this still make you happy?”

“How can we elevate this state, in any possible way?”

I treasure every talk we’ve had.

Even the uncomfortable ones.

Especially the uncomfortable ones.

Because we try and I appreciate that. So damn much.

Thank you for caring about my happiness, not just in words, but in effort. In my small, messy little world, you're the second person who’s truly tried (the first was me... not exactly by choice. childhood was a whole circus and not even the fun kind).