Love Story (The Series)
Chapter 22's
...Blind Love...
The splashing sound of the rain rushing from the drops to the sound of a loud, not enough one but thousands of puddles of water swept over my shoulders and drenched me, not enough one, I just fell silent while letting every puddle of rain and also the boisterous sound of the wind blow fiercely on my face. I'm a nobody, I'm not the director who made my documented life journey into a movie. Even in the crowd I was still alone and feeling lonely, like there was only a firefly accompanying me in the silence. I'm just me and not him, let me keep this feeling at a distance because maybe you're not for me and maybe this feeling will one day go away on its own.
Not someone who is good at stringing words, not a psychic who is able to express words, not the predecessor who is able to say words, and not the painter who is able to draw words. Every despair paints a word, every thing provides information about the journey of life and every time will scratch ink about the meaning of happiness and also sadness. I'm just an ordinary person not a protagonist who deserves to be flattered and also not an antagonist who deserves to be made in the bully, not also a figure who just passing by, not just passing by, I am not a slang girl who is pretentious and also not a cool cool girl who is cool, I am not as romantic as Nicolas Saputra and also not as beautiful as Dian Sastro Wardoyo, this is not a story between Rangga and Cinta.
I don't know why I became a poetic figure when I was not a funny or romantic girl, and also not a girl figure who slang like noodles, not even a pretentious artist, not even a pretentious artist, let alone to be pretentious my quiet face might be considered a less friendly and not good at getting along, even though I really do not know anything. Why yes lately I often write in my diary until one day I realize my diary is full of my curses, the point is long at times wide is the same as either since when I became a romantic figure like a top pesinetron when in fact I am an ordinary and not famous person. Maybe it's not me if I don't have a taste, because every feeling will lead us to a love, or friendship like the story I wrote here. I don't know Lo want to read or not as bad as Lo yes the term bodo very, because from the first I did not like a lot of talk but once said a lot.
***
Ikbal is the guy I love and love, I really can't hate him even though everything he has done has made me angry and disappointed. I knew he was, but when did he realize his own feelings and stop making distinctions between love and friendship.
"Why did you see me?" Much
"Don't anyone see Lo !" Answer it with a loud tone
Why this guy's attitude is so strange, though he was nobody to me anyway even though he was famous very popular among the girls in our school but in my eyes he was just plain tuh, although I was a little possessive when I saw him familiar with his girl friends. How can I be that jealous when he is not who I am, let alone make deket just know my death.
"Yaampun Zal, Lo's head is very big anyway, until I want to write no look!" Taught me
"You know how tall he sits behind me!" Tell the others
"Yes, I'm moving!" Answer
Finally I moved but instead sat with Ikbal, my gosh so awkward even no other chair anymore.
"Eh move away dong!" Say me
"I've been sitting here since" he replied
"Sit's up to Ikbal" he replied
"Lo do it here!" Ikbal
"The passenger sitting next door didn't seem to look!" Answer me relax
But why did I suddenly become trembling gini yes.
"What the hell is Lo !" Taught me
"Kok kayak there's a different Lea same Lo ?" Ask
"What?" Ask me
"It's not sudden that Lo added more nyebelin" he said
"Ihhh what the hell is Lo !" Answer me
But why the Ikbal ngeliatin I just make me can not focus on learning.
The sun shines on the eastern horizon giving its bright light while waiting for the arrival of the dawn, dawning, I could not bear to see such a great and beautiful bright light but it inevitably gave a question mark to my feelings that raged between anxiety and uncertainty that made me not believe it the beauty of love, my instinct asked me if there were any mysteries that always arise in my life that make me unable to go through every process in my life. I was undaunted but also convinced but inevitably my little heart asked if I could fulfill my life well, the wind seemed boisterous which made me cold then I covered my body with a thick jacket that I brought from home.
"Lo say again my snack" said I while writing nyelesain the subjects earlier
"Lo is very serious Lea" he said as I wrote again
"Some of that already know I've seen the blackboard again, uh head Lo even ngalangin ajah" said I cuek
"Well, sorry I didn't mean to like that time" he said plainly while looking at me
"Lo ngeliatinnya don't do it dong!" I said while I was ngusir him
Then Ikbal came...
"You guys are doing the two of them fighting a muzzle" said Ikbal
"Where is Bal going?" Ask Rizal
"Gue's going to the cafeteria, you want to come?" Answer Ikbal while taking Rizal to the cafeteria
"Owh yawdah, I'm coming!" He said while joining Ikbal
"Lo said he was bothering him" said Ikbal
"She's funny anyway" Rizal answered while rubbing my hair
"Here Lo!" Say I before me he always makes me uncomfortable
Not the story of Romeo and Juliet whose story is written and also filmed, nor about the famous Rama and Shinta. Not a rich man, just an ordinary man, not a writer but just someone who wants to express every feeling through the verse of words and also ink scratches written with the heart and feelings.
The sweetly written annual temple of my love story with him that sits in the courtyard of love together with my heart that is always ringing with the whispers of his love so sweet, so sweet, indefinitely revealed but I can't say. I'm just someone who adores him in the distance, I'm just someone who tries hard to stay loyal to him even if I'm just behind the distance, don't ask me how I feel if you can't move on from the past that haunts you because it's so unfair.
The splashing sound of the rain rushing from the drops to the sound of a loud, not enough one but thousands of puddles of water swept over my shoulders and drenched me, not enough one, I just fell silent while letting every puddle of rain and also the boisterous sound of the wind blow fiercely on my face. I'm a nobody, I'm not the director who made my documented life journey into a movie. Even in the crowd I was still alone and feeling lonely, like there was only a firefly accompanying me in the silence. I'm just me and not him, let me keep this feeling at a distance because maybe you're not for me and maybe this feeling will one day go away on its own.
Not someone who is good at stringing words, not a psychic who is able to express words, not the predecessor who is able to say words, and not the painter who is able to draw words. Every despair paints a word, every thing provides information about the journey of life and every time will scratch ink about the meaning of happiness and also sadness. I'm just an ordinary person not a protagonist who deserves to be flattered and also not an antagonist who deserves to be made in the bully, not also a figure who just passing by, not just passing by, I am not a slang girl who is pretentious and also not a cool cool girl who is cool, I am not as romantic as Nicolas Saputra and also not as beautiful as Dian Sastro Wardoyo, this is not a story between Rangga and Cinta.
I don't know why I became a poetic figure when I was not a funny or romantic girl, and also not a girl figure who slang like noodles, not even a pretentious artist, not even a pretentious artist, let alone to be pretentious my quiet face might be considered a less friendly and not good at getting along, even though I really do not know anything. Why yes lately I often write in my diary until one day I realize my diary is full of my curses, the point is long at times wide is the same as either since when I became a romantic figure like a top pesinetron when in fact I am an ordinary and not famous person. Maybe it's not me if I don't have a taste, because every feeling will lead us to a love, or friendship like the story I wrote here. I don't know Lo want to read or not as bad as Lo yes the term bodo very, because from the first I did not like a lot of talk but once said a lot.
"Is Lo happy?" I don't know just words written with question marks, not firmly not elegant. Just want to be someone who is as special in front of him, even though I am not a perfectionist who deserves to be flattered. I'm being selfish, he shouldn't be a part of my life story when he's not a part of it. My move is stopped but I don't want this to be just a story about me and him, in fact now there is not only me but also there is him.
"What do you do Lo !" Ask
"Deh Lo wrote again?" Ask again while looking at me who is writing a diary
"Liat dong!" Say
"What the hell Lo, make a surprise!" Answer me
***