THE WEEKEND

one by one, the light over my head is gone,
left me with some tall shadow over my feet,
Down in a hallway, i am waiting for you to come,
"i'll be there, just wait for me," as you said,
and here i am waiting...
wasting my Sunday evening...
in some black hall stall,
with stranger eyes starring me on,
its eleven pm and i still can't find you in a haze,
i am scared if that story start to make sense,
this story who bring uncertainty feeling for me,
the story that i only have you in the city,
the story that i only have you in Monday to Friday,
the story that i only have you from nine am to eleven pm,
the story that i only mystery box in your real life,
in your real life, which is not including me.

I am just such a fool when i came to this city,
full of hope and big dream as i graduate my master degree,
got a real job and real paycheck,
and no matter how shitty my life is, i always have "lost feeling" in the middle of the journey,
and then you come and guide me to this senseless building jungle.

How do i know if a simply smile and simply "hi" can lead you in complicated restaurant check and confidential room service,
my friend said, "that's what people do in this city." We work our ass off from nine to five and then we jump to some other lap and earn some releasing orgasm. "Everybody does that. we are like a giant group of horny dog. We fuck'ed up but we fine!"

But that what makes you special in this story,
you make a my lunchtime like romantic dine,
makes my chick-flick drama like a festival movie,
you makes the cheesiest jokes sounds like professional stand up comedy,
you makes this city like old romantic France which is flood by poet and romance rather than a giant group of horny dog.

Then, one time, i asked you something,
"how about we have weekend together," i asked
"i think i can't make it baby, how about next weekend," you said.
And i just agree but disappointed silently.

It was a year ago,
and we still remain the same,
never have some weekend together,
but we have something together on the weekday,
Then i feel so tired about whatsoever this things happen between us,
my friend send me a picture with words that tell "weekend, the only time when your lover back to their wife arms."
At first i feel nothing,
because i think she just a big jealous whore,
she married who can not satisfy her and she annoy others joy,
i don't give a shit what she thinks,
but the boredom comes, suddenly the thrill, the excitement, the joy in whatsoever happen between us is already come in fade.
We eat, we laugh, we kiss, we fuck, we wake up, we make up, we work, we eat, we laugh, we fuck , we wake up, and so and so and so..

I give up,
I dare you to meet me this weekend,
"if we not meet this weekend, its better for us to not see each other again, forever," i said when i text you in Saturday morning.

Then you agree to meet me on Sunday evening,
in this some random place a cross the train station,
the noise every single half hour almost damage my hearing,
i can not hear anything unless the friction noise between railways wheels and its railroad,
every chattering noise just became a back sound of ending of my whatsoever relationship,
And its already eleven pass fifty five when i see my phone to read a text message, its from my friend, who always jealous with my orgasmic secret love life.
"That bastard left me to another whore, i hope he died right away," said her.
suddenly i feel pity on her,
she just a woman,
she just want to be a perfect woman,
she married in very young age,
so people will not called her late on marriage,
she married this very workaholic and so goddamn rich man,
he so stable, but he so imperfect,
he could give her every single detail of her fairy tale fantasy except the joy of sex,
she think her husband gay or something,
instead of found out what happen, she choose to find her desire inside others men pants,
she just as lonely and fuck'ed up as i do.

It take some minute for me to give up on you and every single men in this planet when my phone shows eleven pass fifty eight,
until some black beautiful car stopped after me,
and i see you inside that thing,
you come out with very nice black leather jacket but your face looks like a mess,
i smile when you come,
and you smile back,
you grab my hand, pull my waist, and kiss me tenderly,
we already pass the weekend when we stop kissing,
and you whispering me something,
"now you had me on weekend... and every single day on your life,"
i feel something warm in my face that makes me unable to hold any tears in my eyes,
i feel like i just won some battle that i never applied for,
i feel like a champion in nowhere league,
i don't know what to say, but this weekend, it's a good weekend!