“Best moments happens when they’re unplanned.”
It’s a quote I’ve heard before and though I would admit it’s true, it’s not one I found applicable in life. I am a planner and I have the tendency to map out my days beforehand, even if sometimes it’s a highway to disappointment. Especially when such plan involved people who have no idea how aggravating it is to have someone back out on their words on the last minute or being forced to wait for hours because your friends are unable to be on time.
Last weekend, though, I made an impulsive last minute decision to spend my weekend at Depok. At 10 pm Friday night. When I was already settled in bed with episodes of Arrows Season 4 to catch up on. Even now I’m not sure what prompted me to make such decision. But I can’t deny that it may have been the best I’ve made in weeks.
Because it turns out incredibly refreshing and I really need the break.
It has been more than a month since I move out of Depok to be closer to work, and in extension I’ve been away from most of my last-term-of-college-companions for just as long. It is hard, after all, to keep up with them when you’re miles away with work hour to think of. Especially in Jakarta where every distance needs tripled efforts to be crossed. And maybe I’ve been purposely neglecting to catch up because it’s the easy way out, to avoid feeling envy or unsettled by the tons of things I missed. I’ve been really good at doing just that too, convincing even myself that I’m content with my current routine.
I still miss the interaction, though. For it’s the one thing no amount of binge-watching or movie-going can replace. So maybe the sound of fun Rear End Folks were having and the chance of actually be a part of it was reason enough. It’s not going to deviate far from my original plan anyway, so I figure there’s no harm.
I got far more than what I’ve bargained for, though. More than just meeting and catching up with friends, I’ve got to actually be around people who had no filter whatsoever again. People who give no shit about what I wear or what I do. People who are comfortable with me as my unguarded self – even those who I rarely met or just happened to be a new acquaintance. It was a time to let my inhibitions go and say “fuck off” to my carefully sculpted persona. A time to just relax and forget the outer world exist, recharging myself in the embrace of those who knows me and is okay with her without questioning her life choices or why she do what she did.
It was a particularly sweet escape, even more so because I never expected it and wasn’t entirely prepared for it. Nor the aftermath.
Because it was far too short of an escape, and I’ve never realised how strung up I’ve been until I’ve experienced once again the freedom of not caring. The way I don’t realised how tired I actually am until I can lay down and rest, or how lonely I was until I soaked up the warmth of being surrounded by friends.
And I can’t have enough. It’s an addiction in the best way, one that got me craving for more. And maybe it did messed me up a little, but it’s so irresistible that I couldn’t care less.
So if I’m coming back for another dose, well, can you really blame me?
À la mort,