My Dear Old Friend,

Today is the last day of 2017 and I still couldn’t write a letter for you. It is not because I don’t have time or something but there are so many things I want to talk to you. Actually, I have written them in my journal but I don’t think it is proper enough to be published here since it could be read by anyone. You know what it means to me when someone reading my journal. Ha!


Life is weird, right? Back to years ago we were good friend then become stranger and now you ask me to put small contribution to your project. Life could flip in a blink of the eyes. When you tried to recall what we had in the past, of course I remember. It still sticks in my mind where we bought batagor, the song we played, what we did and talked in now your campus, why things happened. But, I had to cut your sentences because I was embarrassed of how dumb I was. You said we need to see the history to face future. And we can’t ensure the future.

Let’s just live in present day. Maybe we are on different path right now. You with your own life I barely know and I am here doing things. Give space for any kind of surprise because nobody knows what lays in front of us.

Anyway, thank you for making time in Bandung. You still owe me batagor! I was having a great moment since we met in front of Buaran Theater, long silence because I was late, until you couldn’t stop telling me your girl crush and finally waving goodbye in Tebet Station. I wish we could spend time a little bit longer. Go to Pasar Santa, Sentul, or BSD, or just talk. But no, this is enough.

Oh hey, finally I write one though this is not all that I want to tell you. Nggak lolos editing. Wk.

Years ago, I used to write letters (or whatever it is called) to you someone who means to me. This is the last letter in this series and the hardest one to write. I choose to not put password as I mention before and publicly share this because why not.

Dear Colleagues,

On the first day of work, I examined your look from head to toe. You put hair mask and combed your hair backward. You wore white long sleeve shirt and black trousers. Those were ironed nicely and perfectly fit on your body. Your shoes were black polished I could see my face on it. I thought you must be a former banker or someone who concern about fisical appearance.

Then I remember people say,”First impression is important but get ready for surprise.”

Almost everyday, we discuss and collaborate project, sit with our own laptop in silence then suddenly you sing with your untuned voice. But there is also time when we have tension, criticize each other. Sometimes, we talk about things outside work and you start to open up about yourself. You told me about what you believe in, your family.You said you are the first who works in government institution and want to change family’s fortune.

With your persistence, confidence, your mom’s prayer, you finally get a position you want. I don’t know how should I feel. I am happy for you but at the same time, I have to let you move to another office. I couldn’t imagine next year, there will be noone else who listen to my story and give stupid advice, noone who annoys me with repeated question “what are you doing?”, noone who talks too much, noone who makes effort to find me boyfriend. I don’t know how my day will be if someone who laugh and grouch with is not in the same office again.

It is hard, of course, to let you go. Since it is your first time living far from your parents, you ask me how is it like to live in capital city, how should you manage your lifestyle. This is what I can give to you: you will be tougher than you think, you will expand your mindset. You will grow to be wiser man.

There is bright future lays ahead in front of you. Fly!

Years ago, I used to write letters (or whatever it is called) to someone who means to me. This is the second from three letters I will write during Christmas holiday. Congratulation to Harriyadi and Mas Hafiz. People come and go, so thank you for your presence in my life.

*You need to crack a code to read the last letter

Dear Someone in Finance Department,

I never intend to write this until you called me yesterday. Your name appeared on my screen as the phone ringing. I wonder, what was this for? It was quite impossible if you wanted to talk about work because afterall it was Saturday afternoon. When I heard your smiling voice answering my greeting, from across the phone you asked me to revise and send the documents.

Of course you talked about work. That was the only thing we had in conversation. But it was Saturday and you were supposed to enjoy holiday. “That’s just a dream. It is December and I am in finance department. So, yeah.”

In the last two months, we text too often, we see each other faces too often. You repeatedly asked,”How’s the progress?” I handed you a piece of wringkled paper. “I should be ready, then. Do you do all of this alone?” I had no answer. Everytime I entered your room with loads of documents, you will greet me with both smile and sigh. “Is this the last one?” “Hey, this is for your boss to sign.” “I’ll email you so you don’t have to go back and forth.”

In the middle of discussing things, sometimes we shared how stressful we were. But you didn’t seem stressed. You worked almost 12 hours/day for 5 days a week. And Saturday, just like yesterday. But, you can still throw silly jokes.

I adore your hard work. You always do the things that need to be done while encouraging me to not give up. You have my back when I do careless works. We all know our position is difficult for working overtime. But you do it anyway because that is your responsibility.

Without you realizing, you are more than just co-workers to me. I could imagine we are having random conversation in the middle of deadlines or go to warung nearby to drink after long day. Otherwise, thank you for showing me the effort and sincere you put into work. Thank you for small kindness you give to light my day. Hope I can do the same.

May January will come soon.

Years ago, I used to write letters (or whatever it is called) to someone who means to me. And I try to write again. This is one of three letters I will write during Christmas holiday. Shout out to Mas Udin and Mas Arif, who are bothered by me. Please, don’t hate me.