Jogja, You & Memories
The 25th Temple

Dominic stepped off the stage after asking one of our lecturers to host the closing ceremony of the opening reunion by praying for our best friend, friend, and friend, students who often issue opinions in a loud voice in front of the rectorate building—Pranata—with the opening of words squeezing the chest.

I lowered my head, squeezed by the painful feeling that was running all over my body. I agree with each word described with a strong intention with hope. Quiet in nature there.

I did not waste this congregational prayer even though I was not ready to experience the steam of memories that rose like the morning sun every time my feet stepped on the space and place that left Pranata footprints.

Dominic touched both of my shoulders from behind as if to strengthen me. “Many dear Pranata, Race. Get rid of him as soon as you can. Including the one in your wallet.” whispered.

I looked over and looked at him with my head slightly tilted upwards. Dominic's eyes hint at a joke he wraps with a faint smile and eyes facing the stage.

Paijo closed the event by announcing a spin-off documentary of photos and videos of the recordings and a free collection of all the friends who loved to take the moment when we were in college.

Dominic pulled the chair he took from outside the building while putting it beside me while I directly slammed his face with my sharp gaze.

“I've known for a long time.” he replied slowly, his right hand raised into the air before landing on the back of my chair. As a former playboy cap friendship. Like most love malingers, he steals a vacant opportunity. His back caresses my back without shame.

I glanced at him sharply. Dominic wears a relieving smile. “I want to marry you, Ras. Waiting for you long. And the others have bunting, have wives, do we? Invitation is not yet.”

“Patience at dear boyfriend, can't wait to kick!” my lips then stared at the screen that began to play a documentary film interspersed with Dominic's small cough that faltered like holding a laugh.

My eyes are flickering. The atmosphere of our school year evaporated a hundred percent through visualization of campus cctv data that was edited with cleverly by whoever he was. I don't care who makes the cctv footage and the pieces of video and photos into an epic documentary that makes me sweat cold.

I care more about every move and life I can still find in that movie. I swallowed it many times. Pranata is seen living with a sparkling and sincere smile she gives to anyone until a girl loves her with obsession.

Hetty, a crazy, tall and long-haired woman who was curly neatly is now here. Among Dominic's exes I care more about his presence than he stole my lover's attention.

Hetty and Pranata engage in a casual chat that leads to greedy familiarity. Once twice I understood their closeness especially Hetty was the son of the rector who gave room for Pranata to voice her aspirations more shrewdly in order to accept her strong protest against the new policy of the university in the sense of harm students. But the longer, the atmosphere of closeness grew more and more jealousy in my chest.

Hetty and her family were at the forefront of regulating the legal process that ensnared the perpetrators of clitih (attack/a kind of stunt) with a sentence of ten years in prison. While at the time of mourning that seized all the attention of the residents of the boarding houses and universities, my family and Pranata's family actually clashed.

Pranata must be buried in his hometown, Surakarta. While from the will he spoke stammering to the doctor and Dominic desperately trying to survive his chickenpox and his regret, Pranata wanted to be buried near my house.

Tension ensued at home, while the grave digger was ready. Pranata must be buried immediately to end some things that can not be conditioned again. I got that story from Dominic. Mediated by a lecturer, Pranata's parents agreed. His son was buried in the university's extended family's public cemetery... Not near my house and I was relieved.

Takzim, I'm down. My tears fell and I gulped furiously. I can't stand the round of film that's still going on for a few minutes. Among the laughter that was a concussion and chatter about the events that occurred. I was just heartbroken. For more painful than a round of documentaries featuring student activity at the time, activities evoking thousands of neatly stored memories squeezed my chest terribly hard. Pranata never admits to being her lover, but rather Hetty whom she once brought to Surakarta and introduced to her parents.

That fact I heard at home as the debate continued to be full of emotion.

“Rastanty is not my son's girlfriend, Budi sir! Pranata is dating Hetty, the son of the rector sir and she has brought him home. No Rastanty name Pranata told us!” said Bu Indri fiery.

My crying's spreading. Is the betrayal revealed? Or Pranata's business capital to remain in this city and pursue his ideals while prolonging his stay at my boarding houses? A lot of bitter and sweet memories with me?

My heart ache grew worse when I heard in front of my parents, Ms. Indri and Mr. Herlambang would not have approved of my relationship with Pranata if her son was still alive. They left behind a pile of hate and Pranata's belongings with a mind to my family who were one eye at a glance. It's not appropriate to be her daughter-in-law.

I slide the chair roughly. “Excuse.”

“Ras... Rastanty.” Dominic and Priska's calls are understated. I rushed out of the student alumni building. Followed by Dominic's steps that suddenly shifted the chair spontaneously. While some people must have shifted their attention to the commotion that occurred, Hetty was no exception, who had just turned to me while holding a tissue.

“Well done, Race.” Dominic blocked my wrist while pulling me into his arms. “Just a little hurtness. It's okay, you will be fine, with me, everywhere, every time, you needed.”

(Just a little pain. Its alright. You'll be fine, with me, anywhere, every time, every time you need me ~ Dominic. )

🖤