Her Dream Paradox

It was a gloomy afternoon, after a lot of debate with myself whether to go to the exhibition, I finally arrived in the building. I knew I needed to be ready, though. Ready to face him again after all this time... Ah time, I wish it was on my side right now. Unlike before... or the even the time before that.

****

Before

I got several pictures in my shaking hands. I did not know why my hands were shaking when I held them close. Maybe because I was now living my dream, at least partially. I watched how the grey clouds hung upon the afternoon sky--made the situation even more dramatic that it already was. I put those pictures back on my bag, did not want them got ruined because of my stupid lonely tears.

Yes, a girl waited for her bus in the airport, ready to realize her dream but she cried nevertheless. How stupid that sounded? A broken heart made her dumb I guessed.

"I hated Paris..." he said while playing with bunch of printed pictures in his hands. He liked photography so much, he spent almost his whole life to document life, including my dream city: Paris. Yes, like any other girls or maybe even boys, I loved Paris. Oh come on, who did not like Eiffel Tower? And the romantic atmosphere? At least that was what they advertised about this city. 

"Well, I couldn't really comment on that. I've never been there myself, but I think I would liked that city." I shrugged his comment away.

"Umm no, I think you do not just like it--you love it! I can see it in your eyes. You like it so much that you make Paris as one of your must-visit places. Right?" He teased me merciless, as usual.

Blushing, he caught me there. I looked at him curious, how could he know? I voiced my question out loud. Not that it was vital since he could read my mind almost every single time. 

"Because your eyes lite up like Christmas tree when I said that I wanted to show you pictures of France..."

"Did I?!"

"Yep, you did!" He laughed and touched my nose. I tried to act cool by smiling over the small the gesture while in fact, he took my breath away and made my heart beat strangely.

"Today, I would show you pictures of Paris but one day, I will be the one who take you there. Consider it as a kind gesture since you cannot speak even a word of French. Such a shame!"

I rolled my eyes at him, there was no guidelines in this whole wide world for us to speak five different languages like him. Oh him and traveling! I did not even want to try to question why he could speak so many languages.

"Now let's start with the gate of France... Charles De Gaulle..."

As the bus passed upon the small Air France aircraft, I could not help but matched the photograph he took with the actual view until it went away. The first of many pictures that I would like to match--between the reality and the dream he created in those printed images. As sad as it might sound, through the picture I felt that he guided me to live my dream even without him in it.

****

I kept the best for the last. That was exactly my thought when I stepped out from the metro in Bir-Hakeim station. It was 9 o'clock in the evening, but there were still a lot of people there. I tucked my sling bag carefully, did not want to attract any pick-pocket. I did not know what I felt at that time when I walked through Quai Branly. I realized the excitement of Paris had long gone but I guessed it did not stop me to living this partly broken dream.

We sat in a private corner of the unfamiliar restaurant with a glass of Rose in front of us. He did not like Rose, but he ordered us a bottle of it nonetheless. Simply because he knew that I liked it so much. I did not usually drink a lot of wine but today I needed the comfort of it. I knew it was a bad choice of encouragement, but I needed alcohol to make me brave and he did make me nervous, something that he never did before. 

Synchronized with the heavy rain outside, I could feel the gloom loomed over us like a thick unwanted blanket. I watched him carefully, despite of the odd, I tried to memorize everything about him. His face--hazel eyes with slight facial hair here and there, all in the right places. His dark hair was tucked behind as a very short pony tail. I could not help myself but sniffed his scent, his manly perfume tickled my nose gently. He smelled so good, I wished I could snuggle closer and enveloped by him--my favorite safe haven. I wanted to remember every single second of this moment... 

He studied me carefully too. His eyes were so intense. I could read all the feelings he let me see. He was usually so guarded, while I was the open letter he was the one with horribly tight seal. He worshiped privacy like no other but he gives me a privilege to see right through him nevertheless.

I felt our thick wall crumbled into thousands pieces. Surrounding us with unknown and unclassified feelings. We were practically baring ourselves to each other. No more curtain in front of our emotion. It was time.

"What if we were situated in a whole different condition?" I whispered softly, too scared to break the spell.

"You mean in a world without distance ?"

"Maybe..."

He stared at me like I was a lunatic. Yes, maybe I was. I was in the edge of my sanity because life would soon take my safe haven hastily--him.

"But distance is my life and no one can take me away from that. The more I embrace distance, the more I discover things. Even distance was the one who gave me you... If I did not take the decision to pursue my education abroad, we would never meet. Right?"

"No one worthy enough to change your mind?"

"Yes." He answered it without any bit of hesitation.

I felt like there was a high voltage lightning struck my heart.

"Some things are meant to be broken." He said again to respond my miserable silence.

"Even when the bound was so powerful?" I needed to doubt him. I refused to stop!

He looked at me with such intensity that killed all my feeling--I did not know what to react, what to feel at the moment. All those emotions overwhelmed me. Slowly, oh slowly he put his palm on my heart.

"I could feel myself here..."

Without breaking the eye contact, I put my hand over his heart as well.

"As could I..."

"But some things are really meant to be broken..."

And at that time I could hear my own heart breaking, just like the wall that was once guarding it.

Finally, I arrived in front of the mighty Eiffel Tower. Just in time when hundreds of lights were twinkling and blinking. I opened my small sling bag and took the last picture. I matched it with the real Eiffel Tower in front of me. I stared at the picture and ignored the reality that was going on around me. His picture was captivating me. He captured it perfectly and beautifully--even more beautiful than the reality.

Maybe because that he was. He was more beautiful than any reality--he was too good to be true. Like my own personal angel, but guessed no one deserved perfection and no angel belonged to mortal.

Suddenly, all air was taken from my lungs... I could not breath. I could not stand. I sat there...surrounded by people kissing, families hugging each other, friends joking around with wine in their hands. I sat there and cried heart wrenchingly--silently.

I could not believe that I was here, in Paris, under the Eiffel Tower...without him. We dreamed about it together but now, just like what he said... our dream was meant to be broken. He left me with his broken promises scattered around like unfinished jigsaws. Abandoned and forgotten.

I could feel myself swallowed by elegy... A deep elegy that I buried for so long. Now it came back to me. Guessed one could not be strong all the time. I let it out... because this sadness deserved to be felt. At least, I had come this far. I had done my part. For his memory was worth it. Our bound was precious enough... therefore, the sadness that come upon our broken bound was truly deserved to be felt. I just hopped his reasons to forsake me were the same--worth it, because clearly, for him, what we had was not good enough.

Last tears.

I promised...

I whispered it through the summer night. The ironic night of closure. While others celebrated their love in this city, I practically feasted upon my broken heart and conclude my love tale.

****

Now

Prague. I loved this city. I remembered the last time I was here, it was like years ago. I came with a severe broken heart--tried so hard to heal myself. Escaping from home just to erase him or maybe, I just simply made an excuse to cross the ocean and searched for him in his continent. It was crazy actually. But well, what did you expect? Illogical love could always kill your logic.

And now, here I was, arrived in front of the most prestigious photography exhibition in Leica Gallery Prague. Honestly I did not know why I came here myself. Oh yeah right, my boss wanted me to go. As an art curator, it was my job to look for the best art pieces all over the world. I denied my boss several times though, especially after I saw the list of the photographers.

Damn.

I knew that he would be a famous photographer one day. My artistic intuition could see it from the very beginning when he showed those beautiful pictures of his; he made our small college town looked way prettier. I wondered how he turned those simple beauties into something amazing. But now, I especially wondered, what did he look like now? More handsome? Did he possibly cut his hair? My head was basically invaded by these crazy unnecessary thoughts rather than what kind of arts that I would buy this evening.

Well, maybe I should have Googled him in the past.

I chuckled bitterly, stalking him was just off the list. Listening to someone said his name was already hurt like crazy, left alone stalk his social media or google him. I literally would be dead if I discovered him with his conquests. Or even only merely knew that he had a completely happy life, while I struggled.

I shook those bad memories away, I refused to dwell in. It had been two years. I believed I had changed. Or there would always be a chance that he did not remember about me.

Yeah, keep telling that to your self!

I wished he would not be there. It would be so awkward. But come on, after all these years? Should it be that awkward if we actually meet each other? Well, let's just hope I would not put any interest in his pictures--which also most unlikely.

I sighed, dejectedly. Knowing, there was no way out of this lose-lose situation.

Straightened up my dress, I entered this classy building after giving my invitation to the guard. This private show surely the hottest thing in Prague, since the guests were all dressed up so neat and fancy. There were a lot of people in there--of course, what did I expect? Duh. I had not even met him, yet my logic was already dimmed into a lower level.

The wall was painted grey with a lot of pictures on the wall. In each side, I could see the name of the photographer. I walked further, looking for the main exhibition hall. I did not want to waste too much time, it would be better to see the best pieces and grab it as fast as possible before others had it. Or before I bumped into him.

I could see one picture in the wide wall of the main room. People were swam in front of it, I guessed I should wait for my turn. Patiently, I waited until I was in front of this sensational picture.

I gasped.

I felt time stood still.

I could not breath.

...

It was a picture of me.

I was standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, holding his picture to match it up with the actual sight.

Wildly, my eyes searched for the title.

It was written:

His Broken Dream Came True
By: G. Amadeus

He was there.

As soon as the realization hit me like a hurricane, I did not know what happened to me after that. It was like I was witnessing my own self struggling to get out from the crowd--looking for air to breath.

He was there.

He saw me there.

He watched me in my most broken and fragile moment.

I found an empty corner and leaned my self on the clear wall. Clearly, I could not support myself now.

"Malf?"

And then I saw him for real. He was wearing a very fancy suit. His hair was now cut really short, almost like those who were in the army. He stood there, watching me devouring his presence. The man who took my heart away, cherished it just to crush it in the end. The man who bailed on me on our promised Euro trip. The man who let me cried so hard in the airport, once I realized he would not come. The man who did not even show up in our promised country: France.

In short, the man who once broke me severely.

After a torturing silence, he slowly approached me--looking afraid as if I might explode. Which was good because I could even feel it in my skin. My wrath crawled in every inch of it. I tried so hard to calm my emotion down, remembering his main picture in this exhibition. His muse: me.

Stood firmly, I gave him a smile--or so I thought as a smile.

"Hello G, how are you?"  I said harsher than I wanted it to be.

"Great?"

"Of course you are great. How could you not? Knowing that you have been loved too deep back then under the Eiffel Tower? Poor girl, her crazy love was taken for granted."

"Malf..."

"Was it hurt? Seeing me so close to you but you could not even meet me in person? You could not even touch me. Was it hurt?

He kept being silent.

"Answer me? At least I got one answer from out of billions unanswered questions that I have for you."

He stared at me intently.

"Yes. It hurt and still hurts like hell..."

"Good, at least I was not the only one who had my own personal hell. Good luck with your life! Goodbye."

"Malf!" He grabbed my hand.

"Don't! Your time is up, G. Some things are meant to be broken, right? Including my love for you. Funny how I ended that feeling in the city of love, exactly in the moment that you captured in a quite impressive way. I wished you enjoyed the view."

I stared at him. Feeling so numb, I hated it.

"So long my friend. au revoir! Thank you for making my decision easier back then in Paris. Like I said before, good luck!" I said bitterly, ending our unexpected encounter.

And then, I walked away and never looked back.
Or so I hopped.

***HER END***

Not An Ambitious Traveler (5)

I thought it was time to end this blog post series. As cliche it might seem, I would end the story in Paris--like a Hollywood movie or something. There were a lot of thing that I wanted to document about Paris but I realized those stories were definitely not for public consumption. I hated that I was not anonymous enough to write freely about everything. At the end, our identity was the one that restricted our freedom.

When I arrived in the downtown, another city popped in my head. It was New York City. Ah, just like Amsterdam, but Paris was giving me stronger sense of the Big Apple--in European way of course. I could also assure you that it was not a city of love in the daylight.

The highlighted of Paris for me was when I met three amazing women.

The first one was the woman who determined to accompany me in Paris. She was the strongest of them all.

Long story short, we ended up helping each other. Two broken hearts women, walked hand in hand in the city of love that soon changed into city of friendship. I would always remember how we faced Eiffel Tower and both of us reacted in the exact same way: we cried for the broken dream we had about Paris with our loved ones.

On the first night upon her arrival, she was so stressed up with her thesis. Yeah, a broken heart and unfinished school project would never go pretty. Tell me about that. We spent our first night worked on her thesis--tried so hard to find a brand new motivation. It was a great night for me nonetheless, because I adored research and was no longer having any desire to explore touristy places.

I also would always remember the late night we spent in Champs Elysees avenue. We had been so stylish during the day, we ended up in our most comfortable outfit at night. Yes, while people were dressing so fancy, we only wore t-shirt, jacket, and legging with our running shoes without make up on. It was also the reason why we canceled our plan to hang out in a cafe--because underdressed was definitely an understatement that night.

Instead of going to the cafes, we finally ended up going to a drugstore. We planned to drink something at our apartment. She pointed out vodka in the refrigerator, I shrugged it off because for me, vodka was not an option. I did not aware what possessed me, but I walked to yogurt shelf because those delicious looking yogurt seemed so attractive. I took two bottles and strangely, she did the same.

You know what happened next? We sat in the bench near Arc de Triomphe and drank our yogurt. Yes, yogurt was definitely the best substitute beverage on a fabulous Friday night in Paris. We laughed about it out loud, it hurt. It was definitely a night to remember...

She healed me through a unique way: by taking care of her and helping her to hold her life together.

---

In Paris, I also met my friend from Ann Arbor. She was the second woman that inspired me during this visit. She was the loveliest lady of them all.

One thing that I regretted during my stay in Ann Arbor was we never made it for a coffee. But well, we made it up in Paris. So fancy!

It was great meeting her again. She was so dear, I felt a pang of  sadness because I did not give myself a chance to spend time with her more before. Meeting her, brought a new perspective about my current state: hopeless, broken-hearted and feeling so useless. I would always remember how she held my hand and said, "You got more and more beautiful everytime I met you. It was like you are blooming. You are still young, please do not think too much about everything!"

After that, I felt that I could breath easier. It was not too late. There would be something better waiting for me after this impromptu escape.

She taught me to appreciate myself more. That it was okay to be not okay. That I was young! For god's sake I was still young but how could I felt that I had crazy amount of burden on my shoulder.

---

On my last day in Paris, I met the third woman that I adored: she was the coolest of them all. She worked for an amazing international organization and I could not be more proud of her. She was also the one who intoxicated my brain to pursue higher degree in Europe. Oh and she also pushed me to learn French. Joy! Yes, I was being both sarcastic and serious about it.

Believe it or not, it was the first time we met but I felt like we were an old friend already. Talking with her was so addictive--we talked a lot, we regretted I could not stay longer. Well, I was pretty sure it would not be the last time I visited this city, though.

She showed me that we should work on what we want. We should not restrain ourselves to pursue our dreams and settle down just because others demand us to. She taught me so much and I learned that I should not be afraid to dream big because life had its own way to fulfill our dreams as long as we work hard for it.

---

Despite of the unique experience, I have not seen my bestie in his hometown and atmosphere yet! I must go back one day. Moreover, I also have not fulfilled my promise to meet a wonderful and lovely lady from the North too. I have made a promise, so I intended to keep them because I knew how hurt it was when you were being lied to about promise. Human and their words--so unpredictable.

In the afternoon, I left Paris with a strange contentment and fulfillment... It was weird because everything that happened in Paris were beyond my expectation.

It was for the best though... Ah, life and its calculation! Always so surprising.

You, 2015, is and will always full of surprises for me!

"May the bridges I burn light the way..."

Not An Ambitious Traveler (4)

If you asked me about Praha before, I would say that I was not curious about this city at all. It was always my best friend who wanted to visit Praha. But now, I would be lying if I had not built such special admiration for this lovely Eastern European city.

The way the golden hours shone upon Danube river...
The way my feet were half dancing when I explored those narrow streets and got lost willingly...
The way those serenity feeling warmly wrapped my heart...
The way Prague cellists touched my heart so deep with Falling Slowly melody...

I would always remember that time, right before I had to depart to Paris. I was sitting under the Charles Bridge. Eating my lunch on the side of the river while greedily devoured the view. How birds were flying freely... I was aware that this freedom that I possessed had strict limitation.

I wish I could stay there forever though. Stayed as a stranger, lived my life and wrote as much as I wanted. Took pictures and documented life. Forever be an adventurous wanderer.

I knew it was a dangerous wish, but I could not help my self from asking for much too much.

But then, as always, life could not give everything we want. At some point, we should do what we need to do, not what we want to do. Just like ourselves, there would always be the time where we ought to shut our heart down and let our brain ruled our steps.

Finally, I departed from Praha with an intense bittersweet feeling curled in my guts. I remember how I chuckled to myself when I left that amazing lunch spot. It was so ironic when I realized that Paris was no longer having the appealing effect on me. However, I could not miss this city for the world--for any reason. I needed to be there.

Nevertheless, please know this Praha, you are forever be the one which inspired and prepared me... To fight for myself. To not give up. To not be swallowed by my own misery. To be happy because of me. To forget the bitterness. To forgive. To embrace my feelings. To hope but not to expect. To accept what was not meant to be, and let it go. To remember the good memories and not letting bad memories jeopardized them.

Because of you... Now I smiled, and ready to go to the land where the famous Eiffel Tower proudly stood! Or so I thought.

Not An Ambitious Traveler (3)

Lets talk about Austria now! So after making a quick stop in Hannover, I flew to Vienna. I also met my other good friend there. The good thing was I still could sense tranquility radiated from her--the feeling that I always felt whenever she was around.

What I could narrate about Vienna, it was a very detail city. I thought I knew details from Bremen, but Vienna won it all. Started from St. Stephen Church. Every single centimeter of this church basically covered in fine detail art. It was like they did not want to miss any spot uncovered. Paintings. Statues. All blanketed in sophisticated and conservative art. It was full of beauties, since I was a big art admirer.

One sweet memory that I kept about this church was I lite a candle there. I did not know for how long I stared at the dancing little fire afterward. Nor, I knew what I wish for... all I did was watching it burned and tried hard not to cry. Funny how I just stood there and wished for nothing. Yet deep down, I knew God had uncovered what was best for me for this trip--even for my life.

There, in St. Stephen Church, I knew my heart and thought were already surrender bravely to the upcoming beautiful plan...

However, I had a small bad experience: pick-pocket. For those who liked to visit touristy place in Europe, please be super careful with your belongings because a lot of expert pick-pocket hunted after them. My money, for example, was almost ceased. Yes, even inside of the church, they were resilient. My tip was do not use a purse that was easily identify as your source of money. Use something smaller or less eye-catching. Fortunately, I caught him red handed and he flee immediately. I pitied him though, he could do way better than me. Come on, a crazy jobless girl who only brought no more than 20 Euro with her. It was definitely waste of time to steal from me. Other than that adrenaline rush experience, the day was ended perfectly in beautiful vineyard restaurant up in the hill.

As you had known, I did not like to act like a tourist (even when I was) including in this home of Mozart. My friend knew about it, so instead of taking me to other scenic place, she took me to her childhood life. We went to a theme park! At the beginning we only wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel and enjoyed Vienna from above, but the plan was expanded. We stayed after the ride and rode other crazy game. We chose a short yet one hella intense jet coaster.

She said we were walking upon her childhood memory: ate some Hungary langos--a delicious fried bread with garlic, then rode the said jet coaster before picked cotton candy as our comfort food in the end. It was fun but so exhausting. We finally ended the perfect Sunday by sitting in her very comfy sofa. The small talks were also so honest, I would forever cherish my time with her. It was so easy and calming at some point.

And then.... I went to Praha! Basically, the trip to Praha was so magical. Honestly it was a struggle to describe how perfect my solo trip to Praha was. Like any other solo trip, the best part was it was all about you and yourself only. No interruption. No need to ask permission from others. No need to be so considerate. You could go wherever your heart desired.

I arrived there before noon, I decided to take a nap before walked to the famous Charles Bridge.

Have you ever experienced visiting a new place and your eyes became so greedy that they wanted to capture every single view? Yes, Praha made my brain did that. Only in Praha I guess--no offense to other city that I already visited though. I could not lie to myself, it was so beautiful that Praha was rapidly climbing and proudly sitting on top of my list. Yes, I did not even think Paris would able to be it's rival (no offense again for Paris).

In Praha, the streets were so narrow--my kind of favorite thing about Europe because they were made to be walked upon by feet. There were also a lot of small cafes and people were so friendly. I would always remember sitting in the Charles Bridge while watching three passionate cellists played so beautifully they got me stunned. The moment was so personal... they were so inspiring. I did not know how many time I beat myself (until now) because I stopped myself from buying their CD back then. Well, the truth was it wast not me stopping myself but my pocket. I did not carry enough money to buy it. Ugh, me and my fear to bring cash with me.