Lessons from My Finished 9-Year Relationship

Today would've marked the 10-year anniversary to my previous romantic relationship—the first one I've ever had. Starting as we were both entering adulthood, this relationship began at the cusp of major changes in our lives at the time. Alas, that relationship ended towards the end of 2019. I really thought it'd last forever. I really thought we would be our only partners. But 17-year-old me couldn't foresee the changes that were about to happen; she couldn't know the developments that unraveled along the way. She couldn't even imagine that I would be the one pulling the trigger. All that being said, I would say, we had a pretty good and healthy relationship. For a while, we were happy. Something like that—one that has been with you for so long—created a lasting impression, imprinted a series of habits and reflexes to fall back on. These are things you can't just shake off in a hurry. I don't like to think of it as a failure. I'd like to think that the relationship has served its purpose; he, however, might beg to differ. The relationship and the ending both changed my life and, if anything, there are so many things I could take away from it. If you'll allow me, I'd love to share a few major ones with you.

We Had Our Feet in the Sand, with an Ocean Waiting

I'm a huge believer that all relationships are different, even if they have gone on for the same amount of time or are structurally similar. Which why I also believe that every relationship is unique, especially those long-term, healthy ones. At the start of Firu's and mine, we got to know a few couples who had dated for years. Some became a role model for a relationship that we wanted to cultivate, some became an example of what we should be wary of. Either way, it was hard to imagine what we would be like years afterwards—we were so young, the world was our oyster, anything could happen. And 9 years later, here we are. To say that our relationship has become so different from how we thought it would evolve is a complete understatement.

Every year, as you might have noticed, I write a little something about my relationship with Firu on our anniversary. Depending on my overall mood that year, I could go from being melancholically grateful to just a downright mess. This year I feel a more optimistic gratitude towards our relationship. It has never felt stronger and more certain than now, in a strange way. Firu has always been my number one guy. He's always been the one to know me best—the good, the bad and the ugly—and chosen to be with me nonetheless over and over again. Now, more than ever, am I absolutely sure that there will never come anyone else who could love me the way he does. In that unique way of his that has pushed me to be stronger and made me feel incredibly cherished all the same.

On the other hand, I know I haven't always been the best girlfriend. I often think about myself way too much, not giving him a chance to pour his heart out. There are times when I burden him terribly with my woes and problems—both real and imaginary. Worst of all, there have definitely been times when I do not respect his wishes or mind his feelings towards my actions. Mostly, these actions aren't too damaging, but I cannot say they won't have repercussions in the future. Recently, I've been trying to be more considerate of this by changing the way I behave in regards to him. It's been nine years, but I'm still learning how to become a better person for us both.

All in all, these past nine years definitely didn't just come from nothing. There's a reason we've been together for so long. If for nothing else, at least because I believe Firu is the best person for me and, hopefully, he thinks the same of me. People often ask how we can be together for so long—with years of LDR in between too—and I wish I could tell them there's real magic there. There isn't. We both work and fight hard to stay together, to show each other how much we love them. We don't always succeed at it, but we never give up—and I think that's the most important bit.

You, Me and Infinity

Eight. It's my favourite number...and a number of years I failed to picture. Five was my benchmark, seven was my 'finish line.' But eight was completely uncharted. It's almost ten, but not quite. It shows us that we have truly grown up together, both evolving at our own pace. We were so very different when we started out, that if we were to come face-to-face with our younger selves, they wouldn't be able to recognise us. But, without realising it, without meaning to, we have become the kind of couple we aspired to become. This past eight years have delivered me to this state: content, peaceful and confident.

It wasn't always like this, of course. When it was one, I remember having irrational bouts of jealousy—which are just laughable. I was insecure and possessive. Well, needless to say, it was a nightmare. We fought constantly, but with such an art, that people tend to think we had no problems as a couple. I wish! Two was better, I suppose, although much harder because of the new distance. We spent most of our time apart, adjusting to our separate lives. Still with the previous problems, obviously. People don't change that easily. Three and four were easier because the distance closed in, so we became once again a part of each other's lives. The fights became less and less each year, even after I threw myself halfway around the world for five, six and seven—though most nights I found myself in tears.

But this past year was different. You performed a miracle. You came home to me. You were willing to talk about all these things digging at the back of my head. You opened up to me like never before, and I began to understand, to feel relieved and to assure you in return. You held my hand in a way that I forget you could, like you're holding on to my soul too. Your eyes looked at me like a canopy, shading me from the harsh, harsh reality. Your laughter put a magic spell on me, setting everything to right in my world. It's nice to know some things never change, and that some others will never stay the same. You are the common denominator, and that is all I need.

This is how I know I've evolved in the one month you were here—more than I have in the three years you weren't: I stopped crying for you the third night after you left. You gave me strength when you let me know we are working towards the same goal. I began to see light at the end of the tunnel. It is the best feeling to know, that while everything else has changed, this alone hasn't. That we still care for one another and we are moving forward together. That you still want me now, the way you did eight years ago. That this isn't a limbo and we'll make sure of that. So hold my hand, honey, because I'm never letting go. Here's to eight years and counting, infinity and beyond.

Too Much Is Never Enough

Towards the end of January, Firu came back home to Indonesia and stayed for the entirety of February. As something for which I've been waiting for the last 3 years or so, this instilled all sorts of reactions on my part. I expected the happiness so intense, my mouth would rip in two from all the grinning and beaming I wouldn't be able to help. Yet I didn't expect all the tears and emotional turmoil from not being able to see him every second of every hour of every day. Insane, I know, but the life I left with him was one where we could literally wake next to each other. I guess I expected everything to revert back to how it used to be, if we just see each other again. Maybe we could go back to being young and carefree, completely oblivious to adulthood and all the anxiety that comes with it. But nothing ever happens the same way twice and I am left disappointed by reality.

Don't get me wrong, I am still extremely ecstatic that he's come home, even for just a brief moment. We got to experience all the new and old things together again. This felt both like a déjà vu and something completely unfamiliar. Those eyes still warm my heart, those hands still guide me through and those shoulders still offer protection and comfort. But this is uncharted territory, we've never been here before—him coming to visit me in a place we were both born and raised, from a place we slowly morphed into adults a thousand years ago. It felt both nostalgic and uncomfortable, as if we don't really know if we fit right in anymore.

Here's the thing: he didn't tell me he was coming until he was already there. He caught me completely unawares. I'd already given up on the idea of seeing him again for maybe the next five years—but now here he was, ready to take me in with all the cellulites and hairy limbs and flaws invisible to the internet. And what if I never recover? It took me three years to make peace with the thought of touching him, breathing the same air as his and feeling the heat of his body next to mine again. It felt surreal and exhilarating, but also scary, because it's as if he reset the clock all over again. Will it take me three more years to be okay to be without him again?

While we are still a loving couple, I can't help but to notice that our relationship has grown a whole lot more complicated than it used to be when we were much younger. Adulthood brought with it new flavours of anxiety and burdens that we weren't entirely prepared for: finances, societal pressure and career. Whatever happened to the people who believed that love conquers all? Was it naïve to think that we could overcome hell and high water, if we only have love for one another? Mind you, ours is still a perfectly functional and happy relationship—one that I'd fight tooth and nail to preserve—but I guess I just miss the simple inner workings of my mind from way back when. The mind that hasn't yet learnt that distance is the tower of babel made of steel and concrete, that some worlds are not for you to save and that feelings are individual languages often lost in translation. 

The past 30 days have been a bonding experience like never before. I felt like I kept saying the wrong words, driving him further away from me in a way that geography alone can't do. But, somehow, he kept coming back to me, like a wave at the beach. He opened up to me the way a morning glory does right before dawn. For what felt like the first time throughout the whole of our relationship, I saw him vulnerable with some of his cracks and craters exposed to me. All these concerns and pressures I've never seen before. How could that possibly be when all this time I thought he was perfectly smooth and beautifully untouched? Wasn't I supposed to be the one with all the scorch marks and carved out parts? I lay my hands on his wounds, hoping that my touch would heal them, if only a little bit. Then, just on the second-to-last day, he showed me the best day of the past few years. Without realising, he's reminded me of all the ways he could cherish me, of all his gestures I always see when my eyes are closed tight, and of why we believe we fit like two puzzle pieces. It'll take me years to live it down, I'm sure.

Now we are once again oceans apart. My tears still flow down the stream, but I'm forced to get up to another day of pretending I know what I'm doing. It may seem like everything goes back down to earth, after spending so much time in the clouds, but I already know that it's not going to be the same again. I guess I thought if I could touch him, I'd be able to capture him forever. But it's not time yet. Someone once asked me whether I wanted to keep this going until then, but it's not a question I can answer. If I'd had the choice, do you think I would choose this constant pain in my chest, this endless stream of tears, these days of feeling like a zombie? Of course not. Who'd choose the in-between, if they can have everything? But we can't, and so we endure. That is the best we can do right now. Let's face it—it'll never be enough, but it'd have to do for now.

'Til we meet again!

Rooftop Secret Garden

Two weeks ago I went on the first trip—and most likely the only one I'll be on—of the year to Bandung. If you live in Jakarta, you would know that this is Jakartans' top holiday destination since it's quite close by with various cultural options to offer. That being said, I can count with one hand how many times I've been in this city in my entire life—counting the one time I only cruised by to look for lunch and had a quick stop at a local exhibition. Although I was there during Valentine's Day, honestly, the trip wasn't a V-Day celebration in any way. It just so happens to be the only spare time I had before class started again, so I made the trip to see a friend. He's a local, so he took me to some spots I've never been to before, like the Alun-Alun and Jalan Braga, but also this new-and-improved Paris van Java mall. Yes, it's a mall, now fully equipped with a huge rooftop garden, complete with aviary zone, petting zoo, skating rink and trampoline park—which is where I had these photos taken.

Hand-me-down shirt + purse // swapped dress // old tights + boots // photos by my friend

Afterwards, we went to Alun-Alun, where we saw a vast plain in front this massive mosque where people can just chill with their family and friends. It would probably have been really wonderful and pleasant, if the weather wasn't so horrid. The clouds were so thick and dark. Then we took a walk down to Jalan Braga, which, I believe, is the oldest part of town. It is lined with restaurants, cafés and bars on the left and right and still allows cars, which made the street feel quite crowded. As the night wears on, the street just grows more and more dense. We didn't stay there for too long, though, except to enjoy a cup of boba tea. To be honest, there are a lot of places I'd like to have visited on the trip—like the City Hall or Asian African Conference Museum—but, unfortunately, we only had one day to explore and, well, my friend just doesn't share the same interest. Well, that's okay, that just means I'd have to come back again, right?

Barrels of Fun

This month has been all about hanging out with Firu and our friends. Honestly, I feel so much more alive now; there just seems to be so many fun things going on that I'm left wishing they will never, ever end. One of the highlights we had was when we were reunited with our core circle of friends in Germany—consisting of Edwin and Wilson, as you probably have seen. This is huge, since it's been around 5 years since the last time we all hung out like this. Technically Edwin, Wilson and I just saw each other around 2 months ago, but even so, a lot has happened in our individual lives that we could all fill each other in on the new updates. We just walked around aimlessly, looking for a place to chat as much as humanly possible. Wish Iva were here too. But I'm a fool if I thought our being together would transport us back to the carefree days of our youth. Nothing will ever happen the same way twice and change is part of being alive. It's time to acknowledge that.

Firu's old shirt // old dress + tights // MKS shoes // hand-me-down purse // photos by Edwin

One of the things I really like about hanging out with Edwin is the fact that he likes photography enough to tolerate my blogging needs. As usual, he took these shots of me—thank you very much!  Wilson was also patient enough to let me get on with things—plus, helping me laugh with his jokes. Firu, on the other hand, sauntered off to the bakery to kill some time. These were actually taken inside a mall, at a far corner I never even looked at before. Incredible how there's the perfect backdrop on some random corner of this food court place. These were taken only a few minutes before we left the building, off to karaoke that we haven't done together in years. I always love karaoke-ing with this lot. I feel so free to do whatever, that I actually broke into a dance in the middle of it. It prompted Edwin to say, "You wouldn't know the difference between her being drunk and sober." Well, what can I say? My whole life is drunk.

The First Date in Three Years

Hi, guys! It's been a month since I decided to blog less regularly and, man, it feels like it's been forever since we last had a sort of chat/life update on this blog. How are you? January wasn't wonderful for me—it felt like it went on and on and on—but something quite life-changing and tremendous happened towards the end of it. If you follow me on instagram, you might already know: Firu has finally come home! Not for good, mind you, but long enough for us to enjoy each other's company multiple times. And yesterday we finally went out on a date! This is huge for me, as we haven't gone on one in over 3 years—and I thought we wouldn't see each other for at least another couple years. It was a much needed time alone together, talking about stuff we weren't able to on video calls—of a serious nature that makes me feel like we're even closer with each other now. And it wouldn't be our date without me pestering Firu to help me take photos for the blog, but now I'm better at being less neurotic about it. So yaay! We tried out this King Mango dessert from Thailand—which is massive—and it's really delicious. We got two loopy straws and did the cliché couple sip. Cringe, I know :')

Ask by Asky dress (old) // gifted batik bolero // thrifted loafers // photos by Firu

Let me talk a little bit about how big a difference my decision last month has on my life—well, my online life, anyway. First of all, the one huge thing that triggered that verdict is actually Firu's aversion towards, well, putting his face on social media. This isn't news to me, to be honest, as he has expressed his take on it various times since I started blogging, but I wanted to believe that he was just being sheepish about it or will change his mind eventually. That obviously didn't happen. So, deciding to finally respect his wishes, I will only ever post Firu's face (or any parts of his body and belongings) with his full consent—which is why you don't see his face on this post, which may seem out of the ordinary. And on instagram only very, very rarely. That in itself, I feel, has improved my relationship with Firu by leagues. We may have been going out for such a long time, but we can still learn things about each other and being together. Trust is very important and I'm determined to show that he can leave his with me.

Untold Travel Story: Erstes Barock (2011)

If you have been following me for over 3 years, you’d know that whenever I travel, I will almost always write about it on this ol’ blog. But there are travel stories that I have yet to share, mostly because it all happens before the blog. But I’d really love to reminisce and write about them, mostly because these stories are worth telling and I may never see these people again. Maybe one day when I'm old and decrepit, this would be proof that I did indeed meet them. Enjoy!

The first trip I've ever taken in Germany was this little trip to Heidelberg with a few of my friends. It was the first independent outing we had that wasn't arranged by our agency—let's not talk about this, it's too long a story. At first, I was only going to ask my friends Zahra, Cindy and Ryan to go and check out the city together because we might go to pre-uni there, but Firu also wanted to tag along, so the five of us embarked together. In Heidelberg lived our friend Kynann who met up with us at the station and became our tour guide for the day—he and I were actually the organiser of the trip. Heidelberg is such a beautiful, antique city with various old buildings lining the streets and it didn't take us a lot to gape at the sight. And it was definitely a whole lot better with Kynann's insights guiding us through.

Getting our main objective out of the way, we went straight to the university to check out where our pre-uni campus might later on be—none of us ended up going here at all, by the way. Kynann also took us on a bit of a tour around the campus, showing us what each section and building was, etc. In case you don't know, Universität Heidelberg is prestigiously known for its medical school—and Kynann was a medical student there! I can't actually remember what time we arrived there that day, but after walking around for an hour or so, I think, we went to lunch at an Asian buffet—which was also our first experience of a buffet, I believe. I don't remember what we ate—although I remember thinking it was delicious!—but we took some photos there too (lol) because we were excited, I guess. Then, diving slowly into a food coma, we decided it would be a good idea to rest up a bit, do the afternoon prayer and check the train schedules at Kynann's flat—which was small and a bit crowded but cozy for all of us, with a gorgeous view.

So as not to stay too late, we decided to get a move on not too long afterwards. We took a walk in downtown Heidelberg, making our way through the baroque buildings, checking out the cute stores and restaurants. I don't really remember (again) why, but we seemed to have been quite excited to find this gummy sweets shop and took some photos there too (lol). You can totally tell we had just arrived. We saw the town hall—a gorgeous baroque building, of course—and the tiny square, which might have been the old city centre, with a fountain in the middle. Sadly, it was winter when we went so the fountain was definitely not turned on.

We somehow made it to the mountain railway station that would take us to the Heidelberg Schloss. Another first experience! At the castle, we saw various sights and buildings and learnt a little bit of history. There is a dip in the ground at the courtyard, where it is believed to be the footprint of the king or so, and legend has it, if your foot fits in it, you will be back in Heidelberg. I don't know if it's true, but mine did and I came back there at least twice more. There was also this giant barrel inside a dungeon of sorts, which used to store 'wine tax' back in the day. The view from up there was spectacular, by the way! You can even see pretty much the whole of the city—including the famous bridge we visited right after.

Our last stop was the famous Alte Brücke. If you ever see a postcard (or just google a picture) of Heidelberg, it will most likely include this lovely old bridge over the river Neckar. It's really just a regular bridge, except it's really, really old, with baroque structures on each end. By the time we got here, the sun was dipping slowly into the horizon and everyone, especially Cindy, was ready to call it a day, so the atmosphere was rather mellower than the rest of the day. So we sat on the bridge to rest our feet for a while, possibly chatting away, took some pictures (of Firu and me lol) and headed back to the train station. That was it, that was our first one-day trip out of town in Germany.

Looking back, it definitely feels like one of those trips that is more fun off than on 'film'—most of us weren't exactly camera-conscious back then. At the time, Zahra, Cindy, Ryan, Firu and I lived together in Etzenrot, but within around 2 weeks we went our separate ways—Firu and I stayed in the Karlsruhe area as well as Ryan and Zahra but lived separately. Kynann often came to the house I shared with Firu (and some others) later that summer and we had so many more trips together. Now, aside from Cindy, I haven't seen the others for years—Ryan and Zahra, especially, since five years ago, insane! We've all gone our separate ways; hope we can hang out again soon.