Losing Us
Our Distance Is Still Far

The morning came faster than ever. At least, that's what Anara felt this morning. Because last night after meeting Arsenio in the kitchen, he couldn't sleep. It was probably only three or even half-four when Anara was finally able to close her eyes. It was accidentally because he fell asleep while listening to a podcast from one of his subscription streaming services.

Anara stretches muscles that feel stiff, especially muscles in the arms and neck. Afterwards, he got off the bed, walked slowly to the bathroom. Taps in the sink he lit. From there, Anara scooped up the water and washed her face using the water. A fresh sensation was immediately felt when the water droplets came into contact with the skin of his face. Eyes that had felt heavy and a little sore also slowly felt better.

After washing her face a few times, Anara grabbed a small towel near the sink, used it to wipe away the remnants of water that had stuck to her face and put it back where it was.

Before stepping out of the bathroom, Anara was able to look at her reflection in the mirror. He found his tanned bead that used to shine brightly now looks dim. His lips also did not sing a friendly smile like the previous days of—entah how long he had been like that.

Anara breathed a heavy sigh. In fact, only a week has passed. There were still many days that she had to pass as Arsenio's wife, which meant that there were still many tears to be prepared to spill at any time. That last night might be nothing. Anara may find another reason to cry if one day she falls in love with him.

“Nggak.” Anara shook her head hard. Clapping his own cheek slowly. “Do not think badly of yourself and others, Anara. Who knows, after this, things will get better and you can smile again like first.” He hopes that affirmation will be enough for him to live today.

Not wanting to linger looking at the self-reflection that looked sad, Anara moved on. He took the time to change clothes before going down to the first floor, more precisely to the kitchen to prepare breakfast— for himself, of course.

Now at 07:45, Arsenio should have left for the office so that Anara could freely spend time in the kitchen without fearing the man would nag. Well, for a week, they never spend time eating at the same table. It's always Anara first, or Arsenio first. So reluctant, the man made a schedule to make sure they would not meet in the kitchen at mealtime.

“Loh?” Anara frowned when she found the dining table was full of various kinds of side dishes that still reflected the smoke—new sign finished served. The aroma of spices that came from one of the dishes on the table made his saliva gather in the mouth, turbulent like a wave that was ready to hit when the sea was high.

“Tumben is up.”

And Arsenio's hoarse voice became another source of shock. Anara turned her head, only to find the man walking down the stairs still in his pajamas of dark brown checkered motifs. Next to the man's hand was put in a pants pocket, the other was engrossed in scrolling through the phone screen.

“You still wear pajamas? Today not working?” ask Anara wonder. He was still dumbstruck even until Arsenio had pulled out a chair and sat across from him.

“It's Sunday, I'm not as smart as it is to have to go to work on holidays.” Arsenio answered flatly. While Anara had just condemned her stupidity again, who even forgot that it was Sunday. Come to think of it, Anara had never paid attention to days and dates again. All he knew was that once the sun had risen, a new day had already begun.

“Ngapain stay there? Don't want to eat?” arsenio's cold voice interrupted again. Anara see, the phone that had been fun playing had been lying on the table. “Sit, game.” Later decrees.

Anara sighed softly, but unobtrusive still pulled the chair and sat down. We sat facing each other, looking at each other for a few seconds before Arsenio's voice blew it all away.

“Gue don't know what you like to eat, so I cook a lot.” Arsenio said without being asked.

Anara just nodded her head, then her eyes began to stare in amazement at the dishes filled with side dishes in front. Her beautiful appearance, her fragrant aroma also made Anara instantly feel hungry.

“I don't know if you can cook.”

“Gue has been cooking food for myself since the age of 13. The mother who taught. He said, cooking is a life skill that must be owned by everyone, no matter men or women.”

Anara raised her head. For a long time, he was silent. For the first time since they got married, Arsenio wanted to tell me about her. A week as his wife, Anara was given absolutely no access to know anything about Arsenio's life through her own lips. Everything he heard through Mother's story, it was not much.

“Forget it, not important.”

Just now Anara's smile almost developed, Arsenio even said something that made the girl swallow back a smile that had not been published.

“Not a single story is unimportant.” Anara Cibir

“Not much talk, game of food.” Ketus Arsenio later.

Huh... It's okay, Anara won't hurt. Arsenio's way of talking is like that and he should get used to it soon. Perhaps, it takes a lot of time to make a human like this 21-door refrigerator melt.

The next few minutes went in silence. There was only the sound of the clinking of the spoon clashing with the plate until the food on our plate was equally exhausted. Anara smiled after putting the last mouthful into her mouth. For the first time after Mama and Papa died, he could swallow food with pleasure. And again, if you feel, Arsenio cuisine is almost similar to Papa's cuisine. A little treat his longing for the man of his dreams.

“Enak.” Anara praised sincerely. There was no other intention, just as a form of appreciation for the food he had received this morning.

Arsenio did not comment on any of the compliments that Anara gave, and the girl did not bother because from the beginning she did not expect Arsenio to receive the praise as she should.

“If it's Sunday like this, you usually go where?” arsenio asked suddenly, after a long silence.

“Not going anywhere. Most only at home, ngerecokin Papa who again read the newspaper or jahilin Mama who again experiment make pastries—which ultimately failed because Mama absolutely no talent to cook.” Anara smiled at the end of the sentence.

Because when Anara told me, a collage of sweet events in the past was spinning nicely in the head. Although shortly after, they faded and Anara's smile vanished. “Now you can no longer. There's nothing I can disturb.” The girl said again, almost like a whisper.

Again, Arsenio did not react. Anara should have known that the man was not interested in her story. When Arsenio asked Anara where to go, Anara should only answer ‘not going anywhere' without adding anything afterwards. Haha... Anara is stupid, isn't she?

So to end the awkwardness, Anara then asked. “You didn't go?”

“Where to go?” Arsenio asked back as she pulled Anara's empty plate, stacking it on top of hers.

“Ke Olin.” Anara. “If it's Sunday like this, you don't go to Olin's place?”

And supposedly again, Anara knew that dragging Olin's name was already on the list of things she shouldn't do. It was confirmed when Arsenio replied, “Not a lo.” affair Then the man passed by carrying the dirty dishes to the sink and in an instant was again busy with his own world.

Again, their distance is stretched. From end to end, it was still too far away to be able to meet at one midpoint. Even just because Arsenio was willing to talk more to Anara, it was not proof that her pace was swinging ever closer. It could be, he just took a step further, without Anara knowing.

“Whatever it is, I know You have prepared the best.” Anara's whisper to the living God in the heart, accompanying each step that was shaken after losing its footing for some time. So just like what Papa always said, Anara will believe that what he lived was the best scenario.

Seriate