Beware of your own soul. With the intention for clinging on to a long-standing and nourishing soul, you are required not to permanently occupy yourself with only one kind of personality in this life. Persona conundrum of your soul: once your character has fused and you’ve liked it, hence, you’d feel you don’t know how to stop it.
My name is Adel – a man with no end because I possess a personality, which is to live, dies and live again, then die again and so henceforth, continually.
Personality can construct an enduring noble relationship.
So, I married Sophi three years ago, upon sympathy.
Sympathy is a terrifying thing.
So, I was spellbound in an empty circle of marriage, hollow, unfilled. I wasn’t contained by it so it was so difficult to measure the limit and the breadth.
[Someone named Antiphon (+ 430 BC) tried to fill a circle with triangles.]
So, Indah, who was meant, by me, to be a Moslem, again, instead bestowed the first love triangle in my marriage with Sophi. In the beginning, the first triangle was carried upon my intention to fill the circle of my marriage, which was felt empty and unsatisfying. Sophi, since I had met her for the first time, hadn’t made me feel passionate. Sophi had never made me want the thing beneath those triangle-shaped panties.
Comparing myself to Rusdi – my coworker, I didn’t have to look for differences and draw conclusions. Rusdi was a depressed husband in his fifteen-year marriage, because his wife hadn’t been pregnant. His escapism was to state an erotic verbal agreement with many women with no feeling attached. His case was really a cliché story of a naughty husband, however his wife finally got pregnant. But I was an exception. Where on earth is a cliché containing such an episode as this:
“What is the meaning of Indah for you? To the last drop of your blood!!!” that was Rusdi’s know-it-all prognosis, answering his own question at once. So funny. I laughed out loud (in fact, I heard a warning and I was trembling inside). While concentrating on the possible truth of Rusdi’s words, I embarked on a protest, seemingly relaxed:
“Sorry, there is never a hundred percent love which is only for one person, from me. Everyone has to have their share, don’t they?!?”
I indeed loved Indah at the time. Our romance had even enabled me to theorize the love & galaxy connection:
Since I met her, since I understood her, I have loved her more and more. My heart has been the center of the movement of love – spinning forward with the higher speed whenever she gets closer. My heart is the earth; love is the moon and she the sun.
In fact, I never found the essence of my love to Indah. Sophi always waited at home and I felt pity. I finally ended my relationship with Indah.
Pity is a deadly thing.
This was the first death of my personality.
[First, Antiphon put in a triangle, then the remaining spaces he filled them with smaller triangles. The intention was to determine the width of the circle with the summation of all triangles’ width in the circle.]
*
Laras, who was meant to be a mere friend, instead didn’t know that I was married. What she knew: I was a young director in a unit of a reputable education foundation. I didn’t ever mean to lie to her. But there was never a bit of chance, since our first kiss, to reveal who I really was. Whereas, Laras had covered her whole heart with the flower blooms of love. There was no possibility for her to believe in the big enemy of her love: the fact that I belonged to someone else.
“You should tell Laras the truth, before you guys go further and deeper,” my personality lived again, because I realized again the emptiness of my marriage with Sophi. And it died again after I decided to gradually stay away from Laras.
[Instead of getting the width of the circle, Antiphon was caught in a big puzzle: he didn’t know when he could stop putting smaller triangles in the circle, since there were always remaining spaces.]
So, I kept placing another triangle in circle. My personality lived again. I, who was innocent as a white blank paper, truly didn’t realize that Leli was the third triangle bearer. She was indeed expected, but I never knew when she appeared.
White has a good personality.
“What haven’t I realized? What sin did I conduct that I am trapped in a great deal of these endless affairs?” I asked insistently to Rusdi, expecting an answer.
“You’re blank. That’s your sin,” Rusdi pointed his index finger onto my right temple.
“What do you mean?”
“Blank people like you never think of the results of their decisions. It’s like when you married Sophi upon sympathy, because she had been twice failing her wedding plan with other guys at the time. You don’t give her your love, instead you pity her. Thus, the remaining of your love keeps seeking an object. Don’t you remember when you said that there was never a hundred percent love, which was only for one person, from you? You said everyone had to have their share.”
“Yes?”
“That’s called irrational love.”
“And?”
“You think yourself, Mr. Einstein!”
My personality was in suspended animation.
[The Pythagoras theory to measure the length of the slope of a triangle, the length of the right angles are 1 (1 square + 1 square = 1 + 1 = 2): the length of the slope is the square root of 2. How much is the square root of 2?]
My love is the slope and the right angles are Sophi and my mistress. My love is something irrational because we can never define the square root of 2.
Now I realize there will be other post-Leli mistresses, even though I don’t expect it now.
My personality lives again to die again and live again, continually.
Love is indeed eternal. A love triangle lasts even when the sun is burning out and space becomes darker and colder, with its absence; the moon wrinkles as it falls into itself. A love triangle lasts even into infinity.
*
(Jakarta, 25 March 2008)
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