Unsent Letters #2: Menteng
To:
Mr. James Abraham Kusumo
243 West, 21st Street,
Chelsea, New York 12512
USA
Hi James,
If you’re reading this, it means that I’ve written the address correctly, and I used the correct stamp.
Hi, it’s been a while isn’t it? Tee-hee
Umm, okay I know this is awkward.. But let me give it a try…
How’s NY? I heard that it’s really buzzing down there. I can’t imagine living in a bigger city than Jakarta, who, by the way, is getting more and more crowded.
But still, nothing like NY, I suppose.
How’s school? I hope that you won’t have a hard time finding new friends there. But, actually I am a bit worried. Well, I heard that Asians are having a hard time in the States. Yeah, it’s disappointing right? It’s the 21st century and there are still people who looks down on us because of our skin tone, sigh.
But hey, I’ve also heard that there are places where Asians are accepted, and even respected. Yeah, the Mathematics class.
You know the joke, A-sians. Hee-hee
Well, I am 100% sure that you’ll smash the subject, considering how a hard-working person you are.
I still remember how you used to have private lessons until 8 PM almost every single day, and I still remember how you always got the 1st place in our class almost every year.
Do you still remember Mr Pandu, our homeroom teacher? He always speak very highly of you, telling us to be as smart and diligent as you, even after you moved to the States.
Most of my friends would get nosy about it — about being compared to you, and ended up blaming their lack of natural intelligence.
But I know it was nothing too natural, wasn’t it?
I remember how the lights in your room hadn’t been turned off even until 1 AM every day. I remember how you spent your time in the bus, reading Biology or Physics, almost every morning. And I also remember how you used to stay in the class even after the lessons are done, writing notes and reviewing the day’s lessons.
Hee-hee, I’m sorry if the fact that I know your routine very well comes as a surprise to you. Girls are great detectives by nature, don’t you know that?
In fact, I know a lot more about you.
I know that you are a huge fan of the Red Sox. I know about your 8 AM Saturday routine of baseball training. I know about your unique taste of music (I mean come on, who still listens to The Smiths these days? But they’re great, I love them too xoxo).
And I know about your dream of getting a degree to MIT.
The day when the news of your Dad being transferred to the States came, I couldn’t help but cry. The fact that the most outstanding student in our class would move half a world away saddened me. I was devastated.
But the most important fact, it’s excruciating to realize that the guy who has become my source of motivation to be smarter, to dress up better, and to become a better person would move to a place 20 hours away — even by planes.
And it’s torturing to know that you would move before I can even get a chance to spend time with you, or at least, to tell you how I feel about you.
Yes James, you’re not reading it wrong.
I like you.
I like your silky hair. I like how you speak with such a brazen voice. I like how you moved very gently each time you move past my table. I like how you helped me with that Physics homework. I like your tranquil attitude, as if even the thundering waves would not move you even by an inch.
And I like everything about you.
I still remember about that day. That day, I have no clue of what’s going to happen, and I went to the school just like any other day. But then, Jessica told me that your Dad is going to move to the States.
The news was like a thunder to me. It was as if my world had stopped spinning, and everything is moving very slowly. I went straight to the bathroom, crying in disbelief. I spent the day in denial and trying to act normal in front of everyone. Soon after, the school was over, and I am slowly getting to my senses.
In denial, I was wondering whether you’d move along with your Dad or would you stay here in J-town. I mean, there’s still a possibility right?
That afternoon, I spent most of my time at the school’s chapel. For a girl who even skipped most of her mass, it was quite incredible you know? You made me become a very religious and God-fearing girl that day.
I prayed to God that you would stay. I prayed that for any absurd and illogical reasons, you would decide that you’re going to stay. I pray to God that I would have a one last chance to meet you, and to hear your brazenly voice. And I repeated my prayers over and over again.
But suddenly, something came across my mind. I remembered about your dream of going to MIT.
Slowly, I realized that I have made a very self-centered prayer. I was only thinking about myself, and not thinking about you and your dreams. You deserve a shot to pursue your dreams. So I ask for God’s forgiveness, and say my last prayer:
“God, I am sorry and I am embarrassed for my selfishness, please forgive me of my egoistical prayer. I wish that, whatever that is going to happen, he’ll achieve his dreams. Please, nourish him with health, safety, and happiness. Cherish him with your love, and please take a good care of him for me.”
I have to let you go.
It’s going to be hard, but I have to do it. For you.
So please, take a good care of yourself, and smash those SATs. I wish that some time in the future I would read or hear about you, an Indonesian with a good-heart and a tranquil nature, making the world a better place to live.
When things have became somewhat unbearable, please always remember of your dream and promise me that you will never give up.
And please remember about me.
Maybe if you ever come home one day, you would go to the coffee shop in the corner of the street that our houses share. And maybe you would be looking for someone, sitting in the corner of that place. And maybe you would find me, a shy girl with bangs, reading Murakami. And maybe, our eyes would meet, staring through the depth of each other.
And maybe, I would fall for you again.
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