Nasi Goreng

10/12/2021 

I realized the fried rice had gone off. I didn’t look away, I kept my eyes fixed to it, simply staring, then letting my mind to drive the course from there. 

There was the image of me, lying down exhausted yet restless for not being able to sleep that night. It was not a new struggle to me. It has been months. The image of me with eyes half-closed, unmoved, simply refusing to, because the fear of any slight movement might catch the attention of my senses and I'd be wide awake again before I knew it. From the sound of the squeaking slippers moving around, I knew there was someone in the kitchen.

The grinding sound of the blender, the image of babah holding to it firmly in one hand, while the other one being put on his waist, then pouring all the content, scrapping out the residue with a metal spoon, directly into the heated wok, resulting to immediate sizzling sound. And not long after, fragrant smell of the sauté followed, invoking each of my senses. I took a guess of what he was making from the sound and scent wafting, to distract myself from the hunger creeping in.

My face broke into a weak, relieved smile over the familiar sound of clatter and fragrant smell. It really has the ability to put me at ease. A complete ease. I could feel a sense of security, serenity bubbling inside me, seeping through my every vein. I felt truly safe, that I thought I was finally able to close my eyes without any worries. It felt like the sound has lulled me to sleep, saying to me, it’s okay for me to sleep now, knowing there's someone who is awake.  

My paranoia really has stolen away my good night sleeps. I feel there’s always someone watching me, or someone will ambush my door and kill me that my blood will be splattered everywhere, or someone will harm me before I had a chance to hide. It sounds stupid or somewhat crazy, I know, that’s why I need to keep checking the lock door, most of the night, to make sure it’s always locked. It's undeniably tiring to be vigilant, anxious for the whole night. Every sound even the subtlest one makes you flinch and your heart skip a beat over it that you immediately freeze. Everything feels like at a high stake when it's simply nothing. 

I know I sound stupid for someone who seems to love being alone but could never fall asleep in her own bed alone at night.

I hate to see the fried rice went unfinished. It felt like his efforts of preparing it from scratch went unappreciated. And the most excruciating part is when I realized that one day I’ll be missing his fried rice, which so far is unbeatable.

I can feel the lump forming in my throat, and the surfacing tears blurring my sight from the thought of it. I tried to cough the thoughts and the sadness away, telling myself you don't know the future.