It’s a sign

Do you believe in signs?

I do. I believe in signs, although not as much as I believe in God. And that’s supposed to be a joke. I see signs everywhere anytime. Or, I want to see signs everywhere anytime. It gives me a suggestive feeling that heaven’s watching over me.

Take Gede Prama. On my normal days, I never hear his wisdoms aired in radio stations. Believe it or not, every time I feel I have enough of the world, suddenly his voice is everywhere on the radio talking about a specific thing I am experiencing. One early morning when I was so mad at something, I sped up along the toll road. Suddenly, Gede Prama voice greeted the listeners and talked to us about ANGER. He saved me from my suicidal attempt of being a car racer. So, yes, I do believe in signs above my logical being. And may be one day I’ll write a novel about it.

Some time ago I had a terrible fight with a friend. Not just a friend, but a really really truly good friend. We had a good laugh a few hours before that happened. That was weird. I guess we had started something on a wrong start and without knowing it we had exchanged sarcastic remarks. The most stupid thing of all of those was it was about an unimportant job. God knows how I will always choose friendship over some work.

I really pissed off when I left, but for me it was just another day in one’s world. We don’t always see eye to eye with everyone including those who we think know us better. I thought.
Unfortunately, my friend didn’t think it was that simple. My friend wrote me he was offended. With the tone I used (which I have always used and he has always listened). With the choice of words I used (which I usually use now and then, which he usually laughs at now and then). With the stubbornness I showed (which I never miss to show and which he always witnesses).

I was surprised. Then dumbfounded. And then shocked. And then I struggled to make everything logical. I was not successful.
I mean, why? Why now? Why not before? What happened? What has changed? What’s wrong? What’s wrong with my being me?

Do you know how it makes you feel when you watch a scene in a movie from a close distance and then suddenly the camera pulls off and the scene becomes so distant yet you can see everything in proportion?

That’s exactly how I felt. Something inside me told me to pull myself and walk backward as far as I could. All of a sudden, I understood, although I disagreed still. And my defense system in me took over. I closed myself from the world. Talking and walking without showing my colors. I had to turn off my buttons of feelings -any feelings- if I wanted to calm down. I did calm down, but I was untouchable. I sensed that my buttons of feelings were starting to freeze.

A few days ago, when I again sped up in a toll road, I saw two men making a living in a hard way. Sitting in my air-conditioned room at the office that day, I realized I was so stupid for making an unnecessary drama over work which would be forgotten soon. So what if I won the argument? So what if I was right? I rested my case. I, who will not step back until I win a war, was able to see a bigger picture of life. What’s important, what’s not. And I thought it was a sign so I made peace with questions in my head.

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to let one question, one question only, rest. Why couldn’t he be a good friend and come to me, look at me in the eyes, and tell me how he actually felt?

So, I did nothing to find the answer because I was afraid I would lose my temper, or worst, lose my trust in my friend. Pretending that everything would be okay one day seemed easier to live through.

Until yesterday evening.

I went to a supermarket near my house. This supermarket was fond of airing Indonesian songs, especially those from popular group bands. I was walking around the racks when suddenly the music stopped. For a second there was no music and naturally people started to lower down their voice. Suddenly, the sound of a piano played was heard from the speaker. I was not the only one who was surprised with the change of taste in the supermarket. Some people even looked up and tried to locate the speaker as if what they did made sense.

It took me only one second to recognize the song. It was One Day in Your Life by Michael Jackson. The song I loved and recently hated at the same time because it brought back painful memory. It’s so sad that a beautiful song like that can make my heart break into pieces from the painful memory it attaches to. The memory was so painful that at that time, I’d do anything to make sure my friend didn’t feel the pain I was feeling. At that painful time, I would make sure he was not affected by whatever things I had done that caused the pain.

So… I took it as a sign. A sign to playback the pictures of us. And there was a picture of him taking my arms and taking me outside the room whenever this song was played just to make sure I didn’t break from listening the song.

So what if he was angry at me as I was furious at him? He is still my friend. My good friend.

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