It’s 9.34 pm and I sit comfortably in a train that’ll take me to Jakarta. Abang dropped me off just now. We had to use his car because it’s been raining since Maghrib. Every Sunday, I always look forward to riding the train back to Jakarta because I enjoy not having to talk to anyone and just listen to my songs along the trip.
A couple of weeks ago, my brother shared his concern about getting a new job. It’s been a while since he left his work in one of the commercial banks in Jakarta. He often complains about how unlucky he is when it comes to finding a new (and better) job. Said that he’s done all the right things, but still no luck of getting one.
He never said that he’s envious of my ‘luck’ in the career department, but he said that I am always lucky when it comes to getting a good job and advancing my education to a further level. He mentioned about some scholarships I received, overseas business trips, etc.
Little did he know, I struggle in what I called ‘love department’. Something that comes easily for him doesn’t necessarily come easy for me. Love and girls come and go in his life while I am stuck on my own. I learn to be an independent person and do things alone. I do enjoy it although it can be lonely sometimes. I guess it’s not something I can complain about. No matter how hard I try, I just have no luck when it comes to love.
His love stories aren’t always peaches and creams, I know he also suffered from broken hearts. How could you not feel a broken heart when you invest your heart to love someone? I applaud his courage to always stand up for love and fight for what he wants.
I think my mom always knows my brother’s love stories. He’s a mama boy and he’s proud of it. In contrary, I rarely talk about my love stories to the family. I actually don’t know what to tell. There’s nothing much to share anyway. Another reason, I can’t share what I really feel because no one will understand.
Life is life. Everyone struggles with something.