Nabiilah Tjandra

Runtutan kepergian orang-orang terdekat akhir-akhir ini membuatku sadar bahwa satu-satunya kepastian di dunia ini adalah kita semua akan mati. Kita akan terurai, lalu perlahan dilupakan. — sebuah renungan sunyi, bukan doktrin keagamaan . Di dunia ini tidak ada salahnya mengejar apa yang kita mau. Karier, kekayaan, pencapaian, bahkan orang-orang yang kita kasihi. Semua itu memang untuk diraih, dimiliki, dipamerkan, dibanggakan. Namun, ada hari-hari aku bahagia. Ada hari aku optimis. Ada pula hari aku bingung dengan arah hidup.  Namun setelah semua itu, aku sadar: hampir tidak pernah ada hari di mana aku benar-benar takut akan mati. Padahal sesekali, rasa takut itu muncul. Tentang apa yang terjadi setelahnya. Tentang tanah, langit, ruang yang tak terlihat. Tentang hidup setelah mati yang dulu sering diceritakan waktu kecil, ketika berangkat TPQ setiap sore. Tentang takdir yang tidak bisa kulawan—dan bagaimana melawannya pun aku tak punya gambaran. Mungkinkah aku suatu hari berkata,...

When I was younger, I imagined my twenties would be filled with adventure, spontaneous trips, long conversations under city lights, and people who would always stay. I thought I’d have it all figured out by now: my career, my relationships, my place in the world. I wasn’t completely wrong, but I wasn’t completely right either. Being 23 feels like standing on shattered ground, everything you’ve ever known begins to crack, and you have no choice but to move forward, even when you don’t know what’s waiting on the other side. No one warns you how confusing it feels when life quietly shifts. People start their own journeys; some move away, some get too busy, and some just fade from your story. Suddenly, the people who used to be a constant part of your days are just familiar names in your contact list. And you realize: it’s not because anyone stopped caring, it’s because everyone’s trying to figure out their own chaos too. At 23, loneliness feels like a quiet companion. It visits you on...

one day, we'll go everywhere, I mean, literally everywhere, across oceans under foreign skies through cities witnessing many places and taste different dishes one day, we'll go everywhere. -n

him, to whom I would lay my head on him, to whom I would pick a flower for him, to whom I would rest my worries upon him, to whom I would write my every poem and him, to whom I would give my love — only my love -n

Your eyes tell me that you will love me everyday. -n 

Maybe in another life, I finally have a heart to say this: There’s something I need to say with honesty, and I hope you read this with an open heart. I’ve told you many times that when I’m sad, I don’t need solutions or jokes. I need presence. I need you to stay, to sit with me, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when I’m not ready to talk yet. I needed you to hold space for me — not with distance, but with patience and emotional safety. But what I kept getting was avoidance. You disappeared when I needed you most. You escaped instead of staying. And every time that happened, it made me feel like I wasn’t worth holding through sadness. This isn’t about who’s right or wrong. It’s about what I need in a partner — someone who can stay through the hard feelings, someone who won’t leave me alone when I’m already low. I love you. I probably always will in some way. But I can’t keep asking for the same thing over and over, only to be met with silence or detachment. I need peace. I need consis...