Editor’s note: This is a fiction story that my Pastor shared one Sunday morning. Somehow, there’s a lesson yearns to be learned: men are selfish beings. Whoops.
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Marcella Purnama
Page 41
Marcella Purnama is a blogger and author of What I Wish I Had Known: And Other Lessons You Learned in Your Twenties. She is currently obsessed with finding the best recipe for bread rolls and keeping her sixteen plants alive.
Does Argo sound like a dodgy movie? Yes, it does. But it turns out to be one of the best movies I’ve seen this year.
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I’m a student, there must be some lessons learned. Three years in university are not long at all. And truth is, not everything will go as you expected. But you know what? It might turn out to be better.
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High school is a cruel place to grow. I don’t know about you, but most of us have felt rejected, used, dumped, and betrayed. Some of us have become an outcast. Some of us have encountered bullying and being called names.
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Breaking up. We pack up our emotional baggage and move on. We sulk a little, cry a lot, and start believing in hope once more. Then, we suddenly see a picture of our ex-partner in the closet. “What should I do with all these ‘left-overs’?” I wonder.
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People say that respect is earned. If you want someone to respect you, you need to respect them first. Today, however, I learn a different lesson about respect. It is earned by talking the same language.
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The Words tells a story about a writer. But in fact, it tells a story about almost all of us. If there is a shortcut to success, without you needing to pay the price, will you take it? Will you be robbing yourself of the chance to explore of the person who you can become?
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For the first time in 20 years, I feel like a little girl who’s been told that fairies don’t exist. I feel like a child waiting anxiously till midnight, only to find out that Santa, his elfs, and his shack in North Pole are not real. I feel like a boy who’s been told that he can’t put on his red coat, fly across the city, and defeat the bad guys.
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I know the best thing to do is just to decide on something and commit to it. But I’m really scared. I’m scared to make the wrong decision. I’m scared of not getting it right the first time. I’m scared that my decision will cost something way much more that I have anticipated to pay.
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She sat there in front of me, a latte on the side. She didn’t want to look me in the eyes.
She sipped her coffee quietly, looking outside the window. Something was troubling her mind, I could see that. She looked around, to the left, and to the right, and suddenly, her face changed. She remembered something, something unpleasant, I suppose.
And she wiped a tear under her right eye.
She kept on looking out of the window, deep in thought, and was surprised when the waitress brought her ordered sandwich to the table.
She forced a smile, and said an inaudible thank you. She began to eat her sandwich, quietly, still with a sad look, a downcast eye, and a deep thought.
What was it?
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