There is no longer a haven for us who have been away from each other.
You no longer listen me telling. I no longer see you laughing.
There is no longer a meeting for us who have tired of walking.
You no longer see me playing football in the school yard. I no longer see you walking by bringing mukenas to the mosque.
There is no longer the discussions for us to present a contemplation.
You no longer see my sullen mouth. I no longer see your furrowed forehead.
Nevertheless, my friend, all the memories—especially about the way that we have been through and the trail that we have left—were kept well in mind. I hope you also still keeping them; about my voice when singing in front of the class, my laughter when teasing you, my weeping after lost a fight, my smile when looking at a timid face—they all have been colored the days of a child who was stricken by a love slowly. A hasty love is a destroyer factor that will bring into regret in the future.
People never thought, my closest friend, that yesterday you were still standing upright, whereas today you’ve just thrown to the bottom of the deepest valley. God may gives a fluctuating life so that people can appreciate every condition; like when we are sick, perhaps we have forgotten to be grateful that during this time we have been given health, or like when you really feel alone, maybe you have too much wasted the someone’s presence.
Today is should be trying to be better than yesterday. That is a hope that, as you said in elementary school’s desk, will be mumbled by us—our shield to live a life.
Then, be a human who dare to rise up, like a soldier who stepped into the battlefield, like an adventurer who likes to hunt the snakes in the forest.
You must “love” to danger because the battlefield was a wild place which full of temptations and obstacles.
You must be sensitive to any sounds because the battlefield was a place where courage is tested when “the ghosts” really come.
You should stop dreaming because your enemies can more quickly get into your defense area.
Rope, such as a friendship, is weaved not to be separated, spliced not to be disconnected.
So, at least, be an equal person; if you’re irritable, you should also quick to forgive.
Revenge and prejudice are—and if both of them maintained constantly—factors that gradually would undermine the wholeness of the soul.
It’s time to start opening a new chapter—stop regretting what has passed—and climbing the cliff bravely till you can get out from that valley of regret.
Tulungagung, Jawa Timur.
PS: I tried to translate my writing into English—even though my English looks poor.
The original title was Medan Perang, which was written in Indonesian.