Where should I begin with?

It's been almost five months since, and I've been having a hard time staying awake again lately. I easily get sick, which is so weird. I eat healthy food, drink enough water, I have enough sleep, exercise regularly, and keep my routine on track, and here I am -  catching flu for over a week. Weak!

This year did not even come close to what I imagined or planned, it would be. To be honest, now I don't remember what I wanted anymore, and now it's October already. The year 2020 is coming in three months, and if you're still here, you'll be 30 in five months; and if you're still here, I wouldn't stop talking about how exciting it is for us to turn thirty! How much we're grown, what we've accomplished, and what's next for the future. I think it was fun to talk about the future before, to make plans and give clarity to the life you had made peace with, and I have been trying to escape. But it is not fun to talk about the future now, I don't see why and how should I talk about it.

Your father told me, that maybe we can talk about this all better after we have gotten through everything. It was a few months ago, and now I wonder.. when? But you'll laugh at me 'the impatience Ina, always in a rush, where are you going?' You know me, and perhaps, I never knew myself before you taught me.

The worst thing about losing you is losing the meaning of everything. It's hard to make sense of things since you left, and in order to enjoy life, you know, I have to make sense of things. Before, I was so arrogant to think that I have developed all of these beliefs and thoughts on my own, by my own experience, by my personal process of internalization that I had successfully established my consciousness. Then you left, and everything slowly started to fall apart. Later I found out that you'd always been part of my consciousness and there have been mornings that I regret waking up to. I searched for my 26-year-old self, whom I remember being so pleased to turn 26, healthy and alive. Looking at myself today, I often wonder why am I still here, let alone pleased to be alive. You helped me construct my consciousness, you helped me build the structure of my reality. You shared your thoughts, you gave me books, you listened and you asked meaningful questions. You brought life to my world - and then you're gone, I begin to doubt everything, and worse, I stop thinking at all.

At first, I felt like a walking robot. I thought it must be nice going back as a human again, yet when I eventually do, I have this strong urge to detach myself from my body. How liberating it must be! Because I feel like the pain attached to my skin, I might be exaggerating, but I honestly could not find joy in suffering. I closed all of my Stoic books, I feel such a hypocrite reading them, and I began reading novels again. It helped me wander, and as you told me often, to be friends with books cause books are always open-minded. And you're right, but sadly, I still need you to talk about them

You didn't complete me, I am complete on my own, I am whole on my own. It's just that without you, I lose the meaning of the wholeness in me. The first fieldwork without you was hell, there was so much I wanted to discuss with you, and within days.. I will be back in the field again, without you anywhere to share your thoughts on my story. I long to hear about your world, having you embrace me, your idea of the world, the breakfast you had with your family, the breakfast you had with me, the dinner you made for me, the midnight we spent talking, the longing, the intimacy while having Kid Cudi plays on the background, and the love we shared in the distance.

I miss our philosophical and surely physical intimacy. Reality is made of dust, Chekhov taught me to turn every piece of anger into poems. Sometimes we build a castle out of the dust with the help of sand, I didn't want to believe what it was made of, or how long such a stupid castle could last, but having you sharing your thoughts, I became more present in understanding that for that time being, it was just a castle made out of dust and it looked pretty. I was happy, and so were you to help me. You turned my madness into a beautiful letter, you must have found the Chekhov in me the same way I found him in you. They have now become the only things I can hold on to. I don't remember how many times have I checked my emails just to feel your presence in this world. It's nonsense, but they are now the only thing I have to keep me stay sane.

Nothing comes close to your existence in my life. I don't know how to make sense of reality again these days. Sometimes they just happened, I wanted it so bad to feel joy, but I knew.. not much did I feel nor do I know what joy is. Everything seems so mundane, I begin to lose my ability to put meaning into a routine. Each time I bought books, I remember you saying 'after over three years in college, that's the only books you got?!' you were so annoying I miss being annoyed by you. I still eat cheese bread for breakfast, but no longer Nutella. I put sunblock in the morning so that I'm not afraid to face the sun when I have to. I still use the same lotion you love, not once did I think about changing it. I read books regularly. I came to visit Yenny, your favorite girl. I listen to the Lumineers and it often makes me cry as it reminds me of you; you should hear their new album, I'm sure you'll love it! The song leader of the landslide and life in the city reminds me so much of you; the demons we had within, how I wish I could take it away from you. I keep breaking my promise to stop saying yes to things I'm not sure I can handle, but I do and now I end up repeating the same cycle of not having enough time for myself. But in times like this, better than not having anything to do. I have no reason to go to the States right now unless I want to go crazy with the thought of losing you and meeting your family without you in it. Did I not have the family I have at home and at the office, I would've gone mad on the day you left me.

You were proud of my insignificant accomplishments. As simple as getting out of my comfort zones; hiking Merapi, going to a national park, being under the sun, getting on my bike again, going out and being with people again, being fearless when it comes to disgusting men approaching me, go conquer the world and spend some of my time with you. And to acknowledge your non-existence is like redefining my life all over again as small stuff becomes so mundane, and big stuff becomes a routine.

So, where should I begin my life then? I am yet to know. All I know is just maybe, just maybe.. death is something time could never mend.

This is like the first long distance conv we had as babies.

How I miss your ocean eyes.