“If life has treated a man like a brigand, and has taken from him all it could in the way of honours, friends, adherents, health, possessions of all kinds, he may perhaps, after the first shock, discover that he is richer than before. For it is only now that he knows what is truly his, what no brigand is able to get his hands on; so that he perhaps emerges out of all this plundering and confusion wearing the noble aspect of a great landed proprietor.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche, Assorted Opinions and Maxims, 343
“My anger scares me, my fear scares me, and somewhere in there is shame, too — why am I so enraged and so scared? I am afraid of going to bed and of waking up; afraid of tomorrow and of all the tomorrows after.”
Tuhan, aku menyerah.
Di mana “yang terbaik” yang selama ini kuucapkan dalam doa, di antara malam-malam yang tak lagi punya nama?
Di mana “yang terbaik” yang pernah kumohonkan pada-Mu tiga, lima tahun belakangan, sampai kata-kata itu sendiri terasa seperti batu yang habis digosok dan jadi tumpul?
Kalimat itu menggantung berulang-ulang di kepalaku.
Beratus kali aku mengucapkannya dalam hati, beratus kali pula aku menelannya lagi sebelum sempat menjadi suara.
Aku menipu pikiranku sendiri dengan kata sabar, dengan kata yakin, padahal di dalamnya ada ruang kosong yang minta diisi.
Aku pernah berada di satu masa ketika doa menjadi satu-satunya bahasa yang kumiliki.
Aku menggumamkan “yang terbaik” dengan sisa napas yang bahkan tak sempat kuberi tanda tanya.
Aku mengulangnya seperti mantra, berharap Tuhan mengerti yang tidak bisa kujelaskan.
Tapi di titik-titik tertentu, aku mulai ragu.
Apakah aku benar-benar mendapat yang terbaik, atau hanya sedang belajar menelan kenyataan?
Apakah doa ini masih berjalan, atau hanya memantul kembali ke diriku sendiri, tanpa ada yang menangkapnya?
Aku tidak kapok.
Sekali lagi, Tuhan, aku mohonkan “yang terbaik” dari-Mu untukku.
Aku mohon, meski tak tahu seperti apa rupa “terbaik” itu, meski aku tak tahu kapan akan datangnya.
Aku mohon, dengan sisa yang masih ada pada diriku—napas, luka, dan sedikit keberanian untuk percaya lagi.
Aku memang terbiasa menjadi hangat bagi banyak orang. Menjadi tempat singgah bagi percakapan-percakapan kecil, di sela hari yang melelahkan, dan menjadi seseorang yang mudah membuat orang lain merasa diterima. Namun, tidak semua keramahan lahir dari keinginan untuk dimiliki. Kadang itu hanya cara seseorang menyembunyikan sepinya dengan tetap terlihat baik-baik saja.
Orang-orang sering salah mengartikan senyum sebagai undangan untuk masuk lebih jauh. Padahal ada hati yang ramah di permukaan, tetapi menyimpan pagar tinggi di dalam dirinya. Sebab ia tahu, tidak semua yang datang membawa niat untuk menetap. Ada yang hanya ingin berteduh sebentar, lalu pergi meninggalkan hujan di kepala orang lain.
Aku bisa bercakap lama dengan siapa saja, tertawa tanpa canggung, bahkan terlihat begitu dekat. Namun, kedekatan tidak selalu berarti keterikatan. Ada jarak yang sengaja kujaga agar perasaanku tidak kembali jatuh pada orang yang hanya pandai memberi nyaman tanpa kepastian.
Semakin dewasa, aku belajar bahwa membuka pintu hati tidak semudah membuka percakapan. Ada luka-luka yang membuat seseorang menjadi lebih hati-hati mencintai. Maka jika aku menyambutmu dengan hangat, jangan buru-buru mengira aku telah mempersilakanmu tinggal. Bisa jadi, aku hanya sedang menjadi manusia yang tidak ingin membuat orang lain merasa asing, meski diam-diam, aku sendiri masih takut kehilangan lagi.
Ternyata, mencintai sendirian adalah matematika yang paling rumit; aku yang menjumlahkan rindu, kau yang membaginya dengan orang lain sampai habis tak bersisa.
Aku pernah mengira cinta adalah rumah. Tempat pulang yang hangat, yang selalu menungguku dengan lampu menyala dan pintu yang tak pernah terkunci. Tapi ternyata, Tuhan lebih sering menjadikannya seperti stasiun; tempat singgah yang ramai, tempat orang datang dan pergi, tanpa pernah benar-benar menetap.
Berkali-kali aku belajar mengeja perasaan, merangkai harapan dari hal-hal kecil; tawa yang dibagi, pesan singkat yang ditunggu, dan tatapan yang diam-diam kusebut sebagai takdir. Namun setiap kali aku mulai percaya, semesta seakan berbisik pelan, “Bukan yang ini.”
Awalnya aku marah. Pada waktu yang terasa tidak adil, pada pertemuan yang sia-sia, pada perasaan yang tumbuh tanpa izin tapi dipaksa layu sebelum sempat berbunga dengan sempurna. Aku bertanya-tanya, apa aku kurang pantas dicintai, atau hanya terlalu mudah mencintai?
Lalu pelan-pelan aku mulai mengerti bahwa ikhlas bukan tentang berhenti berharap, tapi tentang menerima bahwa tidak semua yang kita harapkan memang ditulis untuk kita. Ada cinta yang hanya datang untuk mengajarkan cara melepaskan. Ada pertemuan yang hanya ditakdirkan untuk menguatkan, bukan menetapkan.
Aku belajar berdamai dengan kata “hampir”. Hampir memiliki, hampir bersama, hampir bahagia. Kata yang dulu terasa menyakitkan itu kini justru menjadi pengingat bahwa aku pernah cukup berani untuk mencoba.
Dan di setiap kegagalan itu, Tuhan seolah sedang merapikan hatiku, mengosongkan ruang dari yang salah, agar suatu hari jika waktunya tiba, yang tepat tidak perlu berdesakan untuk masuk.
Sekarang, aku tidak lagi memaksa cerita berakhir seperti yang kuinginkan. Aku hanya berjalan, dengan hati yang lebih tenang, percaya bahwa apa pun yang Tuhan tetapkan bukanlah bentuk penolakan, melainkan perlindungan.
Sebab mungkin, cinta yang benar bukan yang membuatku terus bertanya “kenapa bukan aku,” melainkan yang datang tanpa membuatku ragu bahwa aku memang dipilih.
akan tiba saatnya, kebohongan-kebohongan pasti terungkap dengan sendirinya. saat mereka semua tertelanjangi, rasa malu akan membuat seseorang tidak akan pernah dipercayai kembali.
sebenarnya, manusia yang kurang empati itu mengerikan. jangankan untuk memahami kondisi orang lain, untuk sekadar menyadari bahwa tindakannya menyakiti saja pun mereka tak mampu.
dan yang lebih menyeramkan adalah, mereka tidak merasa bersalah. dalam kepala mereka, semua tampak wajar, semua terasa layak, bahkan ketika luka yang mereka timbulkan bersarang di hati orang lain dalam waktu yang lama.
hii!! i recently read about something called Capgras delusion and i had to make a small post about it. It was too interesting not to share, so here’s a short summary of what i found.
Capgras Delusion
Imagine looking at someone you love: your mother, your partner, your best friend... and feeling completely certain that they are not really them.
This disturbing condition is known as Capgras delusion, a rare psychological disorder in which a person believes that someone close to them has been replaced by an identical impostor.
The syndrome was first described in 1923 by French psychiatrist Joseph Capgras and his colleague Jean Reboul-Lachaux. They documented the case of a woman who insisted that many people she knew, including her husband, had been replaced by doubles or look-alikes.
What does the person experience? People with Capgras delusion can recognize the face of a loved one perfectly. The problem is not vision or memory. Instead, the emotional recognition is missing.
Normally, when we see someone familiar, the brain automatically produces a feeling of emotional familiarity. In Capgras delusion, that emotional signal seems to be disconnected. Because the face looks right but feels wrong, the brain tries to explain the strange sensation, and the person concludes that the real loved one must have been replaced by an impostor.
When does it occur? This condition is often linked to other neurological or psychiatric disorders, such as schizophrenia, Alzheimer's disease, dementia, brain injuries affecting areas responsible for facial recognition and emotional processing, and more.
In some cases, the person believes only one specific individual is an impostor. In others, they may think that multiple people have been replaced.
For the person experiencing it, the belief is completely real. They are not joking or pretending, they genuinely feel that someone who looks identical to their loved one is a stranger wearing their face.
Because of this, the condition can cause fear, paranoia, and emotional distress, both for the patient and for the family members who suddenly find themselves treated like intruders in their own home.
For me, the human brain is fascinating and also deeply unsettling, but that's why i love it.
The room was quiet: there were no sounds of vehicles, no crickets, nothing. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, beating rapidly against his chest, a thrumming he couldn’t stop. Alex tried to level out his breathing, he could feel sweat beading down his forehead, caressing his skin like a tear.
A man all dressed in black with a wide brimmed hat slunk out of his closet, the temperature from inside came pouring in waves: the cold seeped through his skin into his bones, like a rainy day in New York. A thought almost comforting were it not in his bedroom.
Alex’s eyes darted, looking to the door—the window—anyplace he could escape to. He tried to flex his hands, his toes, but his muscles were locked in place. He couldn’t even tilt his head to get a better look at what was approaching the foot of his bed.
He needed to see it—needed to keep an eye on it. To track it and stop whatever it planned to do with him.
Stop it.
The figure whispered to him—something he couldn’t make out over his own frantic breathing. His chest heaved, the only part of him willing to move. Alex tried to part his lips, but only a small whimper came out.
He felt the bed shift, heard the creaking of the frame as weight settled on the end of it. It was climbing, the weight shifting upward toward his legs—then abdomen. He could smell the leather of its clothes before it came into sight. Then he saw it.
A man with no face.
Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. The words repeated in his mind, his brain foggy with panic. What was he meant to do? What could he do?
The man placed its gloved fingers against his chest, spreading its fingers in five distinct points. It was like ice pressed squarely on his core, slowly numbing his skin beneath the fabric of his blanket. The man started pressing down. At first, nothing felt wrong, the weight was weak, almost gentle. Then the pressure increased: the hand felt like a drill boring into his chest, sinking into unbearable pain. His breathing was restricted, caged inside the hands of this monster.
“S-st-“ Alex tried to breathe, tried to beg. The sensation was so overwhelming, his lungs couldn’t expand and his nostrils flared uselessly.
Alex gasped awake, sitting up and clawing at his chest. The fingers weren’t gone, he could feel them as he dug his fingers into his flesh: scratching and tearing. He was itching to remove the weight of it all, to wash his body of the nightmare through blood.
“Alex—Alexander,” Eliza screamed as she hugged her husband, trying to capture his hands. “Please, calm down. You’re awake,” she cried, “you’re awake!”
He panted heavily, letting his arms go limp by his sides. It was warmer in her arms, so much warmer. Alexander could hear the sound of the crickets again, as they usually left their bedroom window open during summer. He sniffled, “I-I-... I’m sorry.” He glanced towards the closet door, except it wasn’t a closet anymore. That was where their shared dresser sat, the mirror reflecting their image back to them.
He wasn’t alone anymore, but that didn’t ever seem to change in his dreams.
She gently rested her head against his shoulder as he calmed down, looking up at him with those beautiful doe eyes. “... Was it the same dream?” She asked, no judgement in her tone, simply the love and affection she felt for him.
“Oh, Eliza… I’m sorry I always drag you into all of my messes,” he whispered as he cupped her face in one hand, pulling away once he realized he left blood on her cheek. “I’m so sorry,” his brows furrowed.
His darling spouse smiled apologetically, “let's visit a doctor again. I know you don’t want to, but I worry what might happen if I leave and you wake up like this. Look at your nails, beloved. You worry me so much, I can’t stand to see you this way any longer.”
Alex sighed, brushing his forehead against hers. “Alright, just one more… For you, I can do that much.”
Kamu tetap menjadi pemenangnya, bukan karena kamu pantas, tapi karena aku yang terlalu tulus. Karena aku mencintaimu tanpa syarat, bahkan saat hanya setengah hatimu yang terlibat. Mulai saat ini aku akan berhenti berlari meski bayangmu masih jauh di depan—bukan karena aku kalah, tapi karena aku sudah lelah.
Andira Wu
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