REDAMANCY - Love's Timeless Path

16th Note

(Haira)

—

My head throbbed in time with the insistent beep of my deadline notification. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to conjure some semblance of focus, but all I could see was the mocking cursor blinking on my blank document. As I immersed myself in the hum of the office, the familiar shuffle of papers, and the distant tapping of keyboards, suddenly, a shadow fell across my desk, startling me. A familiar figure strolled in with a sweet, floral scent that filled the room as he presented a big bouquet to me.

"Hey there, workaholic," Pradipta chuckled, his warm voice sending a welcome jolt through my frazzled nerves. He held out a bouquet of flowers so large and purple that it practically filled the doorway. "Guess who finally remembered his manners? Your boyfriend really knows how to pick the perfect blooms," he said with banter.

My breath hitched. My gaze darted between the vibrant blooms and Pra's mischievous face. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of the beautiful arrangement. "He sure does," I replied. "Was he here earlier?"

Pradipta nodded and took a seat. "But he has an operation scheduled. So, he just left the flowers for me. With his most sincere love greetings to you," he added.

I chuckled softly. "Maybe he's thinking about buying these flowers for a peace offering, I presume?"

The man in front of me frowned. "Emang kenapa, Mbak?"

"This flower." I traced the delicate petals with my fingers. "It's called hyacinths. A purple one. It's a symbol of sorrow."

I stopped talking for a moment. "An apology."

"Ow, guilty as charged, apparently." Pra took a deep breath. "You guys were fighting, weren't you?"

I nodded. "Honestly, it doesn't seem like a big deal, but I don't know, I just feel bad." I looked at my friend. Staring at him, feeling confused and afraid. I traced imaginary patterns on my desk, contemplating his words. "I guess it's just that nagging insecurity, you know? Love is wonderful, but it's also terrifying."

"Why would you think that way, Mbak?"

I fiddled with a pen, trying to find the right words. "Like, what if I'm not enough? What if he finds someone better? Someone who doesn't have all my flaws? Did he still see me, the so-called-queen he fell for, amidst the worry lines and takeout containers? Or was I fading into the background noise of his artistic pursuits, easily replaced by a newer, shinier melody?"

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Was I overreacting? Clingy? Part of me wanted to lash out my anger, to express the hurt and frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface. But something in his genuine remorse over the bouquet stopped me. Ah, I'm really weak when it comes to him.

A sympathetic look in Pra's eyes. "He is definitely head over heels with you."

I sighed, staring at the flowers. "I know, but sometimes, I can't shake this fear. What if things change?"

I knew Jendra wasn't perfect. But his chaotic energy and his ability to make me laugh until my sides hurt—that was why I loved him. Maybe instead of fearing the end, I should focus on appreciating the present and the imperfect melody we created together.

The truth was, Jendra's apology wasn't the problem. It was the reason behind it. A missed promise, forgotten amongst his other meetings that I didn't know before.

He chuckled softly. "Everyone has flaws. Jendra loves you for who you are, flaws and all. Don't let fear overshadow the happiness you have right now."

The sound of my air conditioner drummed a melancholic rhythm in my office room, mimicking the beat of my anxious heart. My phone lay face down on the table, untouched, the notifications buzzing incessantly about unread messages and missed calls. It had been two days since I lashed out my anger at Jendra and two days of me spiralling down a rabbit hole of doubt and insecurity.

"He won't throw you, Mbak." Pradipta said, his voice firm yet gentle. "Not the real Jendra, the one who writes cheesy poems and leaves surprise love notes in your lunchbox."

I sat amidst the sea of purple blossoms, feeling a mix of emotions.

"Think about it carefully." He patted my shoulder lightly before leaving my room.

My heart thrummed like a bassline I couldn't quite place, stuck in a loop of maybe-yes-but-no-what-ifs. My feelings were like juggling bowling pins blindfolded on a tightrope over a pit of glitter.

With Jendra, on the one hand, it's all sunshine and rainbows. Butterflies erupt in your stomach like a confetti cannon gone rogue, and everything has this technicolor filter that makes even burnt toast look delicious. But, sometimes, with him, love ain't a math equation with a guaranteed solution. Although everything could still be taken into account. Therefore, if something didn't match my calculations, I would feel worried, like now.

A whole decade of shared laughter, stolen kisses, and enough arguments to fuel a small power plant. It's not always sunshine and rainbows, but it's a steady, reliable warmth that seeps into your bones—a shared journey filled with laughter, tears, and enough compromises to keep a politician in business. It's knowing each other's flaws like the back of my hand but choosing to love him anyway, yet now I'm here, scared of the things in my head. Even the view outside my window offered no solace. The cityscape, usually a vibrant tapestry of honking horns and bustling pedestrians, resembled a deserted movie set bathed in the cold light of dusk.

With a sigh, I pushed back from my desk, the sterile air heavy with the scent of coffee and desperation. The looming feeling joined the oppressive quiet and amplified the anxieties swirling in my head like dust devils in a forgotten corner.

The question is—why didn't he say that he met his friend? Who is Rara? What was their relationship before? — bounced around my skull like errant ping pong balls, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. I needed an escape, a breath of fresh air—anything to break the oppressive atmosphere.

Holding onto the bouquet, I realized that sometimes, even in the simplest gestures, love spoke loudest, and I was grateful for the comforting presence of both flowers and his love. I found that Jendra's gesture was not just an apology; it was a reassurance, a reminder that love was about forgiveness, understanding, and the strength to weather storms together.

For now, I can rest assured, right? Not feeling worried about the bad things that keep popping into my head?

But God, does loving someone feel this scary?