The Long Road to Happiness

For me, the hardest thing to do right now is to acknowledge that I am happy. 

I told myself I don't need to advertise my happiness. There are exes out there who might not be as lucky as I am in love. There are friends out there who would think "Why aren't you this happy with us?" or felt abandoned. Of course, I am also a very territorial person so all of these could easily just be in my head.

Then I told myself that I don't need to tell the world because the world doesn't need to know. The feeling is mine and mine alone. My closest friends could see my happiness from the meager pictures I posted, or the ups and downs of me trying to not runaway because commitment scares me. That should be enough.

Yet I know why I didn't write about it. I know why I didn't write how happy I am. Of how I wish my readers know what to expect from a man. Of the lovely feeling he made me feel, and should be a standard for anyone, men or women, to receive.

You didn't get to read about that happiness because I am scared. I don't want to acknowledge I am happy because I am scared it won't last. I am scared the rug will be pulled from under me once more. I am scared of realizing that I am too broken to be loved.

Giving love is easy. There's such an abundance of it that you can give so much and you are still in excess. Accepting love is a different story. What if it's a trojan horse filled with sadness and grief. What if it's only temporarily. What if the person decided to take it back. What if you were never loved all along.

I don't want to admit I am happy because it leaves me vulnerable. I don't want to admit it because I could be wrong. I want to be silent about it so if the worst thing happened I don't have proof that I was happy, and I can shrugged and say, "Meh. It is no biggie."

But I am happy. I have someone whom I can be eager to go home to. I enjoy the embraces and the feeling that I am somebody's special. I love all the laugh and the adventures. No gaslighting, no manipulating, no walking on eggshell. No conditional "I love you if you…"

This year of 2020 my challenge is to embrace that woman standing shivering in front of the open door, who has been waiting for the hands to push her outside into the coldness of the night. I want to close the door gently and pull her to the warmth of the fireplace, where the bed is made and someone who wants her waiting her patiently. 

We're going to be fine, little queen. We're going to be fine.

Seks Bebas dan Ilusi Kita

Saya komen di FB kalau Amerika memisahkan agama dan negara, makanya pada akur karena diskriminasi dilarang. Dijawab Amerika ga bisa dijadikan contoh karena membiarkan seks bebas.

Takut banget sih sama seks. Who hurt you, man?

Dari jaman saya SD yang orang hamil di luar nikah itu sudah biasa. Jaman kuliah bertebaran teman yang anaknya 'lahir prematur'. Jaman kerja di kos campur? Ya sudahlah.

Tapi itu karena lingkungan saya buruk. Nggak ada hubungannya dengan pejabat dan petinggi yang hobi bobo-bobo siang. Atau yang hobi ngumpulin simpenan. Atau tukang sayur yang punya istri tiga. Atau cerita pembantu yang diperkosa, sampe dibikin film Inem.

Noooo. Indonesia itu bersih, suci, bebas dari semua kerusakan moral. Nggak ada itu seks bebas. 

Bullshit.

Saya nggak setuju seks bebas. Buat saya goblok aja perempuan yang mau ditipu dibilang "demi bukti cinta". Bukti cinta itu harusnya bukti deposito dan surat tanah/rumah plus mas kawin. Keperawanan kita cuma satu, girls. Jangan mau ditawar murah.

Tapi kalau memang hobi ya udah sih. Yang penting selalu main aman. Jangan sampai kita ketularan sesuatu yang ga penting. [Lirik tajam pada penghobi cewek kafe dan pencinta pijat happy ending].

Kita ga mau mengakui karena kita pikir seks bebas itu akhir dunia. Yang pas ketemu langsung main on the spot. Atau yang lagi kongkow bareng dan tiba-tiba jadi pesta seks. Udahan kali nonton bokepnya. Percaya deh, nyari threesome aja ga sesimple itu Ferguso.

Ini pemikiran kurang 'main' kata saya. Karena hasrat selalu ditahan jadi dipikir kalau nggak ada restriksi akan lebih menggila. Ya itu derita elu aja kali. Emang seberapa loe pikir loe bisa tempur dalam sehari? Tempur berkualitas ya, bukan ala masak p*pmie.

Lalu dikaitkanlah seks bebas dengan tidak beragama, tidak bermoral. Padahal orang yang paling baik sama anda bisa jadi yang hobinya nyobain lelaki. Anda tahu darimana seberapa banyak lelaki yang ditiduri? Atau dia tidur sama lelaki, perempuan, atau keduanya?

Nggak ada nilai lebih dari pernikahan kalau kita nggak mampu menjaga janji setia itu, kalau kita nggak mampu membangun keluarga sepantasnya, kalau kita menelantarkan anak istri. Apa artinya secarik kertas dan sebuah buku nikah?

Tapi nggak lho. Kita nggak fokus ke nilai luhur keluarga. Kita fokus ke seks bebas. Jangan sampai itu vagina mencari kenikmatan terlarang (walau kita akur tutup mata sama penis yang ibarat Dora si Petualang). Pondasi itu, pondasi!

Pondasi yang dibangun dari jaringan tipis pembuluh darah dan kearogansian lelaki. Sori lah kalau elu segitu ga ahlinya sampai butuh jadi yang pertama, karena jelas bukan yang terbaik.

Go suck a dick, dude. Seriusan asik lho. Highly recommended.

This Thanksgiving

So Thankgiving's coming up and you brace yourself for the slew of relatives that you can't be sure about.

You know the older loud-mouth Trumpsters love food, so you set aside a mountain of pies for them to put their thumb in and pulled out a plum and say "What a good boy am I".

You setup a chill corner at the end of your backyard filled with craft beers so the younger die-hard Democrats can sit and enjoy themselves with tales and plans to fix the world.

But what about Lisa and her new girlfriend Angelina? What about Janice that's now called James? What would Ron and Rupert's children say to the other children? Questions will be asked and awkward glances will be thrown. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.

And it is so not fair to expect us to 'just roll with it'. This is an era we don't quite understand. You can't think of how it would feel to exchange long kisses with same gender partner. Won't the boobs awkwardly touch each other? Or the penis? Oh lord.

We don't understand it the same way we don't understand the allure of Sriracha or turkey bacon. Our body shudders when we tasted the weird texture and flavor of Rosie's roast and was told it was fake meat. We don't get why everyone needs to show their asses and boobs in social media.

We were told it was good. We were told it was for the better future. We were told it was personal right and empowerment. We were told we are old and backwards for not understanding that. They are right. We don't understand that. This is not who we are.

That doesn't stop us from asking Lisa does Angelina prefer red or white wine. That doesn't stop us from offering James (who lives the furthest) our guest room to crash the day before as we always did. And we have a month before Christmas to sort out the angry questions about what Rupert and Ron's kids say about their dads because kids will be kids.

We will still flinch when we see Angelina and Lisa holding hand. We will still take a deep breath when Rupert and Ron's kids run from the playroom and called out, "Where's our Daddy and Papa??" We will keep mistaking Janice, I mean James', gender pronouns and heartbroken over the long luscious locks of her, I mean him, that was cut to military crew cut.

We will still do that and more. But we will also carefully deflect the conversation when we deemed someone was going to be mean on others. We will also engage those who are excluded to assist us in menial tasks to make them feel less alone. We will stand true to our guests, come what may.

Because even though we don't understand, that doesn't mean we love them less. We may need to adapt and learn to love the newly shared version just like we love the version we've known for years, but we will get there someday. We may miss and grieve for the version we've known for years, but we will overcome that eventually.

Thanksgiving is about being thankful, and we are hosting/ coming to the celebration because we are thankful for the friends and family we have. We are thankful or the sweet and wonderful people they are, even though the packaging might be new and unfamiliar. Here's to abundance to thank for. Here's to love.

 

* Dedicated to my ex-stepmother-in-law, who despite the shock of having this weird specimen in her conventional and conservative abode still gone the extra length to make my visit there welcomed and perfect. Love you lots, Linda.