Keiko, now fluent in Indonesian but still with her signature Japanese accent, seemed surprised that I could speak Japanese fluently. I explained that I had learned it intensively for three months because I had Japanese clients and preferred not to communicate through intermediaries or translatorsâafraid of missing key points in conversations.
For now, though, she wanted to converse in Indonesian, as she had grown fond of the language. Fine by me. I followed her lead and dropped the formalities for a more relaxed exchange.
"Wait a moment. Let me freshen up first," I said, excusing myself to the restroom. After washing my face to feel more refreshed, I returned to the conversation.
"So, what made you interested in this country?" I asked out of curiosity. There had to be a specific reason.
I placed Sherly, my tabby cat, on my lap, sat down, and waited for her reply. Keiko, in response, held up her right hand and showed me her ring finger.
"Wow. You married an Indonesian?"
Her ring was stunningâwhite gold with a diamond centerpiece.
She smiled and nodded enthusiastically.
"How long has it been, Keiko?"
"One and a half years."
"Do you have any children?"
She gently caressed her stomach.
"Just three months along. Please pray that everything goes smoothly."
"Congratulations, Keiko. I'm genuinely happy for you."
She smiled warmly, then glanced at my hands before averting her eyes and sipping her coffee.
I knew what she wanted to ask but chose not to, perhaps out of politeness or fear of offending me. That's just how the Japanese are.
"I still can't forget her, Keiko," I confessed, taking a sip of my now-cold hot chocolate.
"What do you mean?"
"I still can't forget my ex-girlfriend."
"Hmm... She must have been very beautiful," she said gently.
"And very kind," I added.
"Is she married now?"
"Yes, to a conglomerate from the superpower nation."
"Oh, so the lucky man is quite wealthy, then?"
"No, Rachel isn't like that."
"Then why did she leave you and choose him?"
"Keiko..." I sighed, both frustrated and confused. Her question pricked my ego, but the truth was, I never knew the answer.
Keiko looked at me calmly, waiting for a reply. But I had none to offer.
Taking a deep breath, I said, "I don't know, Keiko."
I sat there, lost in thought, stroking Sherly's fur.
"She broke it off unilaterally, without even facing me, without giving me a chance to stop her. I tried to find out, but she disappearedâleft no trace. It was as if she didn't want me to find her. Then, news of her with someone else just reached me on its own."
Sherly leaped from my lap, walking away as if to escape the heavy atmosphere of our conversation.
"Sorry, Keiko. It seems your painting didn't help much. I'll return it to you."
Keiko chuckled softly. I was confused.
"What were you expecting from that painting, Wisnu?"
"For it to help me move on."
She chuckled again.
"When was the last time we met? Three years ago, wasn't it?" She paused, sipped her coffee, and seemed to drift into her memories.
"I also had someone I could never forget, Wisnu," she said, surprising me. My eyes widened in disbelief.
"Swear to the sun god if I'm lying," she said with a playful smirk.
"For eight years, we were together. Eight years of memories. We laughed, fought, cried, supported each other, traveled to new places, and tried new things. Even our parents knew each other and were ready to tie the knot for us. But in the end, it all fell apart."
She paused, sipping her now-cold coffee. I listened intently, waiting for her to continue.
"Because of another woman," she said, her tone heavy.
Wow. She had gone through something similar to me. Yet, she had managed to move on and now had a new husband. I couldn't help but wonder how.
"He said that woman was more beautiful, more capable, and that he loved her. He claimed to love me too, but it was overâhis feelings for me were gone. I tried to convince him, begged him not to do this, but he chose her."
"......"
"Crazy, right? Eight years wasted. Days, weeks, monthsâI lost my appetite and became so thin that my bones were visible. I lost all motivation to live. My parents were helpless. One day, my mom placed a blank sheet of paper and some painting supplies in front of me as I sat lost in thought. 'I believe this will make you feel better,' she said."
"My mom knew that drawing and painting were my passions. Every time I drew, my mind shifted elsewhere. Every time I finished a piece, I felt better."
"......"
"Gradually, I started living normally again. My appetite returned. I took up yoga. Although I was still reserved, still couldn't forget, and struggled to open my heart, I eventually decided to paint A Tree in the Desertâa symbol of hope."
"That's why I could see your 'wound' back at the gallery, Wisnuâbecause I'd experienced the same thing."
"How did you heal?" I interrupted impulsively, driven by curiosity.
"Hold on, handsome man. I'm not done yet," she said teasingly.
"Oh, sorry." I clasped my hands in apology.
"Not long after finishing that painting, my life started to feel more positive. Time made me reflect: should I continue like this, stuck in the past? I decided it was enough. Hey, I want to be happy and embrace a brighter future. So, I chose to move on. And I did."
I opened my mouth to speak, but Keiko continued.
"I can't forget, and I never will, Wisnu. To me, the past is a memory, but it's also a lesson. And the choice is simple: live happily or remain miserable clinging to the past. Obviously, the first option is better, isn't it?"
Keiko chuckled again.
"If only I had thought that way from the beginning, I wouldn't have made my parents so worried seeing me so thin."
"When we make the decision, Wisnu, that's when the 'wound' heals."
"Completely gone? Truly healed?"
"Of course. Even if you keep calling it a 'wound,' I feel at peace. Proof? This ring and this belly."
Keiko flashed her ring finger and lovingly rubbed her belly.
Sherly, who had been lying on the opposite bench, suddenly ran toward me and meowed as if agreeing with Keiko's words.
"Were you eavesdropping?"
"She's a sweet cat," Keiko murmured.
"Yeah. Fat, adorable, and very huggable."
The park's visitors began to leave one by one. Only five of us remained, including Keiko and me. The fountain was turned off, and I glanced at my watchâit was already past 9 PM.
"Keiko, thank you so much. I won't forget our conversation tonight."
"You're welcome, Wisnu."
"Oh, and I need to pay you for the painting."
"It was never for sale, actually."
"Huh?"
"I placed it in the gallery to find someone like you. Maybe you can contact me again when you're ready to get married. Deal?"
She extended her hand. I shook it, agreeing.
I finally understood. The painting couldn't directly help me. It only served as a reminder that nothing is impossible. But how could the impossible happen if I didn't make a decision?
"Sayonara, Keiko-chan."
"Sayonara, Wisnu-san."
***
For so long, the advice people gave me never seemed to work. But it's different when the wisdom comes from someone who's been through the same thing.
Slowly, my heartfeels at peace, more open. And a woman's face begins to surface in my thoughts.