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tiard · 8 years ago

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Me and The Alien

Hi. It’s been years since the last time I actually write things here, huh?

I’m going to tell you a story tonight. It’s about an alien whom I ended up loving, ehm, so deeply. Or, well… maybe it isn’t love. Maybe it’s just me having no other vocabulary popped in my head to define this feeling I have towards him.

Let’s just assume that he came from Grumpus, a planet located close enough to the sun its people become grumpy because of the sun’s heat. Don’t imagine those kind of aliens you could possibly find in a cheap sci-fi movie because he doesn’t look like that, at all. Honestly, he is a little bit charming. Underline that, a little bit.

To be honest, I don’t really remember the first day that I met him. All I can say now is that it happened in my freshman year, more than two years ago. Later he said it was on some hallway in my campus, but still, I can’t manage to remember it. Yea, yea, I’ll take the blame.

I also didn’t see him coming. We were ‘close’ in all of the sudden, even before I knew it. And the funny thing was when people asked me what was going between me and him, I didn’t even know who the hell he was--yet. I was all clueless.

If I’m not mistaken in recalling my memories, I was in the middle of such a… how to say this, a little bit complicated situation when he ‘came’. My previous relationship was freshly ended in a way far from the nicest one possible, leaving me with several things to clean up. That made me thinking I was so done with boys and their perspective about romantic relationship thereof I started to enjoy the liberty of my own company. I might sound pathetically hyperbolic, but for me, my own self is the best company ever. At least that time.

I wish I have clips showing how we get into each other in the first place on my memory, but–I’m saying this on behalf of my regret–I don’t. So I’ll skip the details about it and… poof, welcome to the we-became-close-then chapter.

I’m not good at describing, let alone impersonating people (it was his hobby instead!), so bear with me if the following descriptions are not helping you to picture him so much.

He is tall. I can say that I’m not the type of girl who judges people, moreover guy, based on their physical appearance--but height, for me, is one crucial aspect. I have a picture of us, taken when we attended a wedding party which coincidentally was on his 20th birthday, where I wore a pair of 5 cm wedges, and still, I was only as tall as his chin–shorty me. And other than his above-the-averages height, he has tan skin, messy hair, big nose, and coffee-colored narrow eyes. Like I said before, he is a little bit charming.

And oh, he has this ‘superpower’ when it comes to eating! I don’t know if the food portion he always has is normal in Grumpus–maybe because its high temperature–but here, on Earth, let alone if it’s compared to mine, his meal portion is enormous. He could wipe a full plate out all by himself and order another one afterwards, plus finishing mine. In some of the times we went for lunch or dinner together, we moved to another place after finish eating in the first one. The thing is, it’s like he is given the blessings to stay skinny despite the amount of food he consumes. I used to persevere that he has worms inside his intestines, but later I tried to accept that maybe it’s just his gift.

My favorite memory of him was happened years ago. I don’t know why this one is kept in the storage of fondest memories in my head because it was actually just a simple, super simple, occurrence.

I had my foot injured that time, because of a ‘little’ traffic accident. That day, I was going to buy some college stuffs (what was it, specifically, I don’t remember) to a place not too far from my campus. I remember it was Friday. We met before this alien went for Friday Prayer and I told him I was about to walk into that place after the Friday Prayer time. He asked me to wait until 4 pm-ish because he had a lab work schedule so he could accompany me after it’s done, but I said I’d still going before that just by myself.

I didn’t straightly go back after I got stuffs that I needed. I always love hardware stores and there’s one in that building, so I went stroll around it. After a while, I got a text from The Alien, asking whether or not I was still there. He said I should have waited him finishing his lab work instead of walking alone and that he was going to catch me up in 15 minutes.

He was really there in 15 minutes. He didn’t admit that he was picking me up. It was because he needed to buy things for himself too in the same place, he said. Maybe it was true, but I didn’t care. Tell me I was too ‘baperan’ (can’t find a proper English term for this), but I was moved.

I never tell anyone (including The Alien himself) this: we might already seem close or whatsoever before, but I didn’t feel the sparks or anything until that Friday noon. Good move, Al (for Alien). Good move.

Another day, we went to watch Fast and Furious 7 (by the time I write this, FF8 is one of the ‘now showing’ on theaters. Gosh, time flies). It was our first Saturday night ‘date’, if I’m not mistaken, yet we weren’t so lucky that the movie wasn’t being played anymore and the tickets for The Avenger–the only tempting movie on the schedule that day–are sold out.

We decided to just strolling around then, but the mall we visited was so crowded. I don’t know why, but I remember he said this; “Why do these people chose to hang out tonight when it is the only free Saturday night that we have among these busy times?”. I even remember the clothes he was wearing; yellowish green polo t-shirt and jeans. I myself wore my purple plaid shirt and grey pants which he commented about. “What kind of pants are you wearing?”, he said.

We ended up having a cup of bubble tea for me and two cups for him in a tea shop and blew out AAA balloons that I bought (don’t ask me why). He said, “In my regular circumstances, if I saw grown ups with no kids blowing up balloons in the place like this, I would definitely judge them”. We spent hours there with our teas and balloons, talking about so many things, having what they called ‘quality time’.

It was after a year, when we finally seriously talked about whatever-it-might-called that was going between us. It was Sunday afternoon, we went to an eatery downtown because the meatball stall we meant to headed (I meant to headed, actually. I’m not usually the one who makes the decision about where to eat but that time he insisted) was closed, and the rain was falling.

I didn’t see that coming, not even a bit, and out of the blue after we ordered the foods, he asked me, “Have I been bad all this time?”

“For what?” I asked back, clueless.

“People said I’ve been bad for not giving you any certainty about what’s going on between us. It’s been more than a year by now.”

I have a friend, a close one, whom I frequently told the stories about The Alien to. She said we were supposed to have an official relationship due to all the time we’ve spent together, and if he didn’t say a word about it without cease, maybe I should strike up the talk. The thing she doesn’t get is I don’t need that kind of bullshit anymore.

I was so done with romantic relationship, to be honest. I was so done that it became such a fear inside my head of having another one. My previous relationships didn’t work out (stating the obvious here, otherwise it wouldn’t mentioned as ‘previous’) just like I said up above, and I hate how it ended in terrible situation. I hate having someone other than my mom and dad excessively tells me what to do, whom to hang out with, blah blah blah. I hate how things could be so dramatic between me and my boyfriend.

I honestly have one bigger reason, but let’s just keep it private. My point is: I’m not digging in that kind of relationship.

And that’s how I answered him, “If by certainty you mean official relationship status, I don’t want any. I don’t need any.”

So we talked more about us for hours. Confessing things, to be precise. Let our feelings emerged to the surface.

It feels good, Al, to finally state that I… love you. Or, yea, whatever it is that I’m feeling for you. That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, Shakespeare once said.

He came to my house for the first time when we both stayed overnight in another campus of my campus (LOL, tell me if you get this) out of town for… how to say this–a business, and we need to get in town a little while. Him, because… well, I don’t remember, but me, because I need to drop my dad’s medicine receipt at home. And (actually this is the main reason) because I just had my friggin monthlies and there’s friggin blood on my friggin pants and I definitely need to change. Other girl could just cover it with their jacket or whatever, stay cool, and continue hitting the road, but I can’t. My insecurities always win.

So he drove me home while I whined along the highway because my period was playing mischievous that it made me feel like my belly was harshly squeezed. He calmed me down, asked “What should I do?” several times, and when he finally understood that nothing could be done even by The President of America when it comes to a girl’s period stomachache, he stopped asking, and held my hand.

The second (and the third, and also the fourth) time he came to my house was on my birthday and two days afterwards. He said he was proud of himself for managing to remember the route to my house and come back without me or even using Google Maps.

And the fifth was when I just went forth from hospital because of upper respiratory tract infection that I had earlier this year (I stay overnight in the hospital for a week). He visited me when I was still in the hospital, together with my other friends, but we didn’t communicate much because I was ‘busy’ talking with another friend. I feel bad, but the fact that he didn’t try to make me stop talking to that friend and start talking to him instead made me feel worse (pardon us but that’s just how a girl’s mind works; your effort matters). I told him then that I was slightly upset about it, but based of what I’ve learned about him for two years, I was kind of not expecting him come again, yet he did. But because I returned home already, he visited me at my house. He asked me what I wanted and I was joking by answered him I want seblak, but that really was what he brought me.

Another thing about The Alien is that he has the tendency to play Casper whenever he is busy. He could disappear for days when he has a lot of stuffs to do, even weeks. I’ve had enough of people saying ‘nobody is really busy, it just depends on what number you are on their priority list’ or ‘if they care, they will make time’ kind of words into my face, yet I always say those words are such a bullshit. Or maybe not, but we are not supposed to be selfish, are we? I mean, I admit that I want to be on his priority list (who doesn’t?), but I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t have a life either and demand him to keep contacting me in the middle of his tight schedule is stupidly childish. And although I honestly don’t know whether I really am on his priority list or not, he is, on mine. I couldn’t help him finish his assignments or solve his other problems no matter how I always want to, so giving him space is the least that I could do.

But I have to admit that it doesn’t mean I’ve never been bothered by that. No matter how perfect I act like I’m fine with that, deep down I actually hoping that I could be involved in whatever it is he is facing. I want to be there for him not only through his ups but also his downs because I honestly want him to be that way too. I always want to open up to him about whatever problem that I’m having, but it’s just unfair if I burden him with my things, whereas he never do that to me. Maybe that’s just the Grumpus people’s way of dealing with hard times, so I’ll deal with it.

There were weeks back then when he disappeared longer than ever before coincide with my own tough times. He was all that I need yet he wasn’t there. Sum up all the cries I regularly have in a year, my cries those weeks were more than that. I cried over the problems I was having and I also cried over him. I cried so hard in the headquarter of my student association. I cried when I was having lunch with my friends (if you happened to be Benhard Saut Tahi, don’t laugh on this). I cried on my way back home after classes. I cried before I went to bed. Suddenly I was a broken faucet.

I missed him and I wanted to tell him things, but I didn’t want to disturb him at the same time. Until when it was more than the longest time of his disappearance before, I thought I’ve lost him. Not to another girl (I was positive about this because I was pretty sure he wasn’t the cheater type), but still, it hurts.

I was so relieved that I had to hold down my tears of joy when he finally came back after almost a month. I didn’t even care that he didn’t say the ‘sorry’ word, I didn’t need that anyway. I needed him.

Talking about the ‘sorry’ word, there was an upturn. Not so long ago, he played the Casper game again, although this time was only for three days (or four, I don’t really remember). Then, we went for a movie, and he said, “I have something to tell you after this,”

I was so sleepy after three hours watching (the movie itself wasn’t boring but it was late night already) and started to whine about going home ASAP, so he said that he would tell me the thing later when I’m more ‘sober’, but anyone shouldn’t mess with me when my battery is only about 5% left. I insisted him to tell me right at the moment and boom, he apologized for his recent four-day Casper game.

The Alien also has the tendency to speak using high pitch to basically everyone. Not because he is angry, but simply because it’s the nature of Grumpus people. I’m okay with that most of the times (I’ve started to remind him that yelling is not a good way of talking to people on Earth just so nobody who doesn’t really know him wouldn’t get him wrong, though), but I got mad at him for that twice, probably because I was having the annoying pre-menstruation syndrome so my temper itself wasn’t really in a good state.

The first time was after we went someplace I already forgot by now nearly two years ago. We used my motorbike and he held the key thereafter, but he left it when he prayed. He said he would take it after he prayed, so I waited, yet it turned out that he asked me after finishing the prayer, loudly and with peevish face, “Why haven’t you take the keys?” as if it was me who said “I’ll take it later” when it was him who did, as if I was wrong for waiting him instead of taking the key. I was shocked and upset that I just stared at him for a second and left to take the key.

He recognized me being mad and chased me, but I didn’t stop walking. He came to where I angrily sat after a moment and apologized. It was a long ago yet I still remember his every words.

“Tir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. You know it’s just the way I am.”

The second time was the other day. Two days before that, he drove our friend’s car (I was with him) and had a little accident which caused its front bumper detached. The only authorized service station for that car brand where damages to the car body can be fixed is located in a faraway part of the town, and he asked me to accompany him dropping the car off there.

We went back to our campus from the service station using public transportation and walked after the second car that we rode. I asked him, in normal tones, whether we need to take another ride or not, and out of my expectation, he yelled at me, saying it was obvious that we were not.

I stopped walking, taken aback because of his high pitch. I should have known that it’s just his Grumpus habit, but I was so exhausted after two hours in public transportation that I didn’t take it easy. He realized what has he done wrong faster that the previous one this time and immediately apologized, even sounded more regretful when I started crying. I didn’t mean to, but again, I was having period… so yea, that’s why.

He’s not a perfect person… or, well, alien. He has flaws, he made mistakes. But it was never perfection which made me fall for him since day one even until this very second. It was… him. Just like a part in Austin Mahone’s ‘All I Ever Need’;

When it comes to you Baby, I’m addicted You’re like a drug, no rehab can fix it I think you’re perfect, baby, even with your flaws You ask what I like about you Ooh, I love it all

I love everything about him. Well, maybe I just haven’t found the thing that I might dislike about him yet, but basically, yes, I love his every way of everything. I love the way he laughs, the way he walks, the way he eats. The way he tells some terrible jokes or makes some stupid gestures and stares at me afterwards, hoping that I notice him. The way he opens the folds of my sleeve every time I fold it up too high, saying that I shouldn’t do that. The way he touches the tip of my hijab for no reason. The way he impersonates people. The way he says my name.

I might always say that I’m so into guys who play guitar or do sport, guys with glasses, beard, long hair, firm chest. I might always say that I have such a big big crush into that local male singer whose name starts with A and ends with N, or another singer, actor, YouTuber… simply whoever I found cute. I might always say that my boy friends or even my ex are nice and charming, were the captain of the basketball team back in high school, or whatever.

But behind those all, the only guy I am looking into now… is him.

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