You've been missing for a year, but I still remember the shape of the clouds that morning. The two of us in front of your house, you with a mountain bag on your back. I, who was still trying desperately to hold you off, you were the one discussing the clouds instead.
'Look at that cloud, what does it look like?' you ask.
I look up at the blue sky, at the tip of your index finger. I answered honestly, 'Like a lump of fat.'
'No, Momo,' you said. 'That look, like a cat huh.'
I looked back up at the clouds, then I said, 'Yeah, if the cat gets caught in the fat lumps.'
'There is what with you and fat?' you asked annoyed. 'Come on, the girl wants to go up the mountain first.'
'Do you really have to?' I asked.
'I told you from last week.' She smiled. 'Don't miss it so much.' If only I knew, after this I would never hear your voice again.
It's been a year you've been missing, but I still blame myself. Why can't I go up the mountain? What kind of guy doesn't accompany his girl on a hike? A guy like me, maybe, named Momo, whose parents didn't allow him to go up the mountain, because he had a heart problem from birth. Momo, whose name is just like a girl's name. Momo, who was annoyed when she went to the pet shop that an albino hamster was talking to her employer, said, 'Momo, this is your new cage, Momo.'
Fate has too cute a name.
It's been a year since you've been missing, but I still wonder how you got lost. Your friends say, you try to be faster than the others. You are known to be tough, the female futsal captain team, but it feels like there's no need to climb in a hurry, leaving other tired friends, right? Because when you went up alone, then disappeared and didn't come back, I'm the one who's alone now. We are alone now. We are still waiting for you to come home.
The search team found nothing, and after a long time, they finally stopped. I still remember asking your mother to them, 'So now Nadia, my daughter, how is it?' The search team couldn't answer, confused about how to convey that you most likely didn't survive.
It's been a year since you've been gone, but I still go to our favorite places. I still come to Bartos Cafe, near your house. Ordered one sweet iced tea without sugar. Drink straight from the glass, even though the straw is in it. That's what you usually piss off, isn't it?
You used to say, 'There's a straw in it, why are you drinking it like that?'
'Just watch it,' I said.
'Still not enough?' you ask.
'Always lacking,' I said.
Then you smile amused. But honestly, my gombalan is pretty awesome right? Trust me, I have more when you get home.
It's been a year since you've been missing, but I still stop by every week just down the street from your house. Looking at the clouds, looking at your fence, trying to hold on to the fragments of our first story, which is getting more and more vague every day.
