Screen Shot 2015-12-20 at 11.14.11 PMWhen I wrote down his name in my journal entry, I knew that he would always be that special someone. Someone who marked yet another important chapter of my life.

I knew how the other names (temporarily) ended: missing boyfriend I’ve never heard of again, a friend I used to have a silent crush upon, ex-boyfriend I’ve never talk to any longer, ex-boyfriends I still talk to, ex-boyfriend I still secretly think about, someone I continue to admire from faraway, old crush that I come to detest, heartbreakers who fade away in time, boyfriend material turns best friend…

But each one, each names, represented who I was, who I used to be. Their treats and personalities and the way they barged in represented the things I was looking for at a particular stage of my life. They represented passing years; they represented my biggest fears, my faintest hopes, my shattered dreams, my glorious days, my difficult times, my tacit disappointments, my wishful thinking… myself.

As the years passed and forgotten, their names were still left intact, names way back from 1998, my handwriting carefully outlining each letters (other times carelessly), leaving footprints into my present, my life, my heart.

When I wrote down his name in my journal entry that night, it marked the day when I started to see things from a different perspective, the day when I stopped guessing, or having too high of an expectation, the day when I was no longer holding on to mementos. It marked the day when I was free and liberated, the day when I could say all the things I want to say, do the things I want to do, the day when there was no holding back, the day when there was no regret.

He represents the possibilities there are in the world: new experiences, new encounters, new opportunities, and all the hidden places underneath the sun, awaiting to be found.

In my dream that night, we were seeing each other again after quite a long time, knowing that nothing had changed, nothing had evolved, nothing had dissolved. It just happened to be, that one day, he lost something; and I left something, but none of us was really searching. We simply coped up.

So, in the dream, he closed his eyes and I closed my eyes, and off we went our separate ways, hummed along to the indistinct sounds of summer.


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Screenshot 2022-12-08 at 12.43.17
This year, I learned to accept the days when I don't feel motivated, tired, or a bit grumpy. I learned to allow myself to sit with this feeling instead of feeling guilty about it and forcing myself to be productive, socialize, or just get things done.
Photo by Georgia de Lotz on Unsplash
In the end, self-care is not always about doing the things that make us feel good or give us instant gratification. It's also about doing the RIGHT thing: something that is good for us in the long run—even if it may feel hard at times.
Hanny illustrator
I am an Indonesian writer and an artist/illustrator based in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. I love facilitating writing/creative workshops and retreats, especially when they are tied to self-exploration and self-expression. In Indonesian, 'beradadisini' means being here. So, here I am, documenting life—one word at a time.