“Will you feel sad if I leave, Rean?”
Memory is a strange thing. When I was in the scene listening to Lee asking that question, I didn’t pay much attention to my surroundings, or to her words. I only thought how random her question was after a great dinner we had earlier with the team.
We had dinner for three hours in Fullerton while witnessing the thick haze swallowing the distant silhouettes of Marina Bay Sands. We had truffle chips, murtabak focaccia, seafood platter, and other overpriced foods and drinks. I drank yuzu for the first time in my life, its sour and bright taste was painfully refreshing. We also had inspiring discussions here and there about Asia-Pacific planning in the morning.
Now, a week later, Lee’s question comes back to me with more clarity from the scene: the dim taxi, the busy road of Singapore on Monday night, a faint citrus aroma lingering from the driver’s seat. Then the image of Lee who turned her face toward the dark window. I feel as if I can touch her orange backpack with a fingertip.
“Don’t say something like that,” I heard myself murmuring into the quiet.
**
Nine hours after landing in Jakarta, I had a breakfast meeting in Cikini. A textbook meeting with another research institution: we shared our plans in Indonesia and committed to keeping our outputs aligned.
It was quite uncommon for Indonesians to have a quick meeting. We love to ask each other for news and talk about the worst government program lately. But here I was, an hour and a half later, sitting on an empty platform bench in Cikini Station. An old lady passed me. The sweet buttery whisper of her roti canai gently found its way to me.
I usually use motorcycle taxis, but I kind of missed the Singapore MRT. Then I decided to use the train to go back to my tiny room in South Jakarta. The train was pretty empty as it was past today’s rush hour. From the elevated track, I saw shifting scenery from Jakarta’s skyscrapers to the dense residential area around Manggarai.
And a long pause of the blue sky.
At that moment, I realized one thing. It was the first time I felt lonely since joining this company.
**
“Will you feel sad if I leave, Rean?”
“Don’t say something like that.”
Now I understand why I remember Lee’s question, along with its clear surroundings.
It was not a random question.
It was a sign.
Having crossed paths with hundreds of souls since 2016, I rarely work with the same person beyond three years. People come and go for various purposes: family, career, ambition, money. There is nothing wrong with letting them go. That is simply the way life moves.
It is a painful truth I have accepted a long time ago.
But, I am not ready for another farewell. Not Lee, not today.
I am calling her now.
