Before the day ends, I might as well capture some scattered thoughts. Today was genuinely exciting — perhaps "overwhelmingly happy" better describes my mood. Despite spending most of the day lazing around at the office, I deserved it. I had stayed up until 4 a.m. working on the layout for the Abang Mpok Depok Grand Finals 2013 proposal, then managed just a few hours of sleep before heading back to work.
The day was technically designated for R&D at the office, or as I like to call it, a "break." It kicked off with a presentation on Townships and New Towns (Kota Baru) by one of the assistants, which was quite interesting. I arrived late after the previous night's overtime marathon, compounded by lingering tasks that had kept me up.
The landscape team was busy rearranging their R&D case studies to meet a pressing product deadline for our Hong Kong headquarters. Normally, my supervisor Agnes would help, but she was out sick. So I opted to stay focused on my current priority: completing a project in Senggigi — a 20-hectare resort development. It was my first "solo" project, from baseline analysis and design sketches all the way to the final report, which I finally wrapped up today for submission on Monday. Achieving this amidst the chaos felt like a win.
Later in the afternoon, out of nowhere, Mas Bon messaged me asking if I'd like to join him for his favorite meal: Imperial Kitchen Duck Noodles and Singaporean Sautéed Beans. By 3 p.m., he declared he was leaving Bandung and suggested we meet at Margo City in Depok. Knowing Jakarta's legendary traffic, Depok was the logical compromise.
After finishing my work around 7 p.m., I rushed to catch the train, excited but exhausted. Seeing him was such a relief after a long, hectic day. He stood there in his red Pirelli jersey and grey checkered Bermudas, his familiar scent lingering — the same one he mischievously sprayed on my knitwear before dropping me off at home. I hate saying goodbye to him. I hate being apart. But this is a challenge I need to face: learning how to be unattached, despite loving someone deeply. It sucks, but I remind myself — absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?
What touched me most was his effort to make the meeting happen. In a long-distance relationship, where we're 120 kilometers apart, working in different provinces, and often limited to weekends (if lucky), these moments matter. It's not about the duration but the quality — the feeling of being in someone's presence.
Long-distance relationships thrive on intentionality. As much as technology helps, nothing compares to in-person conversations and shared moments that strengthen the bond. And tonight, that effort made all the difference
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