Encountre.
Another wedding. Another reminder of my zero-experience-in-romance-department anxiety. I’ve been not particularly being nice to the groom, he deserves it for many reasons, but I decided not to be a complete asshole. And I really like the bride, so I went there.
It took 3 hours train ride. What I didn’t expect was an interesting man sitting next to me for that 3 hours train ride. Of course, from the moment my mouth says “excuse me,” my wonderful overactive brain had made hundreds scenarios of how this encounter will most favorably end — which most likely will never ever happen. But I let the brain worked as it wishes, too exhausted to shut it up.
How bad was it?
One of the scenarios was the interesting man joining me to the wedding, we end up fall in love, hold our own wedding a month later, and live happily ever after. Welcome to a shameless hopeless romantic world inside my pisces-brain. They said it has something to do with my zodiac. Debatable.
But perhaps I did it for this unconscious research. The more scenarios failed to happen, the stronger theory that says romance is simply not for me. I love the idea but I have no ability to act on it.
I was too busy following the scenario inside my head when I realized I replied “Yes,” a bit too loud when he suddenly asked, “They sell coffee over there?” He referred to the dining car several wagon behind ours.
I was relieved because he’s been only interested in reading his philosophy e-book and uncomfortably sleeping for the past hour, not that it’s a problem. I myself most of the time avoid talking to strangers. But I was interested to talk to him, to what he was reading. I was interested in him, his blue eyes and buttermilk soft curls. I was interested to make one of the scenarios inside my head happened for real.
Once he got back to his seat next to me, holding a steaming cup of coffee, I thought another scenario was over. But then he started another conversation, and it went on and on and on I didn’t want it to stop. The gleam in his blue eyes behind his glasses reminded me of that sparkling morning ocean in Bali. The first time I made him laughed out loud, I was stunned.
“a PhD, in Physics. Alright.”
“What is that?”
“I hate Physics.”
“Everybody does.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
“Tell me.”
“You know when you have nightmares?”
“Uh uh,”
“I think studying Physics during high school traumatized me. Because until today, I always had this same nightmare where I tried to solve Physics equation. When I woke up I was so relieved it was just a dream!”
And then he laughed like it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard.
It kinda amazed me how we have the same perspective about complicated things. Politics? Pointless but no judgment, we agreed. Gender equality? We’re getting there, we believe. Climate change? At least we do what we can do, we tried. Relationship? Not for us, for now. Money? We sighed, we groaned, but then we smiled.
I told him my fear, my disappointment, my insecurity, my dream and he was there. He was real. And no scenario in my head was even close to what happened on train Jakarta-Bandung, seats number 6A and 6B from 8am to 11am on Sunday, 29 September 2019.
As hard as starting it, I tried so hard to look fine when I offered my hand to be held for the last time. The thing about him, he made me forget that I was actually hurting for a while. And letting him go felt like opening a new door.
“Take care of your belongings.”
He smiled.
“Passport?”
“Checked.”
“Phone?”
“Here.”
“Don’t take angkot. Never. Just use Gojek. Okay?”
“Okay.” He smiled again. “All good to go.”
“Bye, Tobias.”
“Bye, Talitha.”
