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I used to have that odd feeling. Back in the days, Bobo Magazine were the hottest thing in my life (before Gadis or Kawanku took the honour). There is a 2 pages of short story, that I love to read. Each edition has different story. But the sense remains the same. Warmth and peaceful. It was like I were there, experiencing what the characters had. 

Blissful afternoon. That’s what I called those sense. 

The same sense rushing to my vein each time I saw an art deco architecture. Those old houses  near Pasteur, with street named after good deeds, bring back memories I’ve never had. 

And lately, I remember 11 years ago almost each weekend I travel to Jakarta. Blora. Just to see him. I don’t know why those memories come up again. Probably because we’re having our wedding anniversary in couple of days.. Maybe.

I stop at Blora. Waiting for him to pick me up. Sometimes we went to Tebet, or Brawijaya. Riding his yellow motorcycle or brown vespa. Experiencing Jakarta in the afternoon with him. Traffic jam and pollution even felt romantic. Yes I’m a hopeless romantic. 

And first pitstop is Brawijaya. Big house, lush with greenery, dark, and lots of people were there. It was a studio after all. We were spent hours in the studio, with me doing nothing aside from waiting for him to wrap up his band recording session, which mostly ended up past midnight. 

Then we off to Tebet. His band basecamp. Another second story room. Old tube, worn out DVD, dusty fan, and super hot. 

Each travel eventually must end with us saying goodbye. He’s usually cool and just leave me at Blora. But me, I’m suck at goodbye. Sometimes I cried. And whoever sat beside me, must be confused lol. 

Blissful afternoon. Everything gonna be fine. Feel the warmth. Maybe it’s your heart telling you that everything gonna be fine. 

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