Can we start all over again?

It’s interesting how people firstly meet one another, get to know each other, feel comfortable with the other’s presence, start compromising each weakness, but finally decided to go their own way.

Then,  after feeling tired of searching another, at one point, one asks the other, “Can we start all over again?”

Well, can you?

We did start as strangers, I knew nothing about you, and you had no idea of who I am. I know each of us gave it a try; there was once this willingness to know you more. Maybe it’s my nature of curiosity: I’d always like to know more about something, or someone.

I’ve ever gone that far to finally understand who you are: your strengths and weaknesses, your like and dislike, your ups and downs of life. But I know that my understanding has never been sufficient to understand you completely. There will always be a part of you that I don’t understand. Let’s call it the void.

There comes the time when we were tired of one another; when the things we understand is not sufficient to tolerate each other’s void. I, then, happened to think that maybe your void is greater than my understanding. And, as we go, this void is getting bigger. I, the one who used to believe having much understanding on you, now has thought of the opposite. I might not have understood you well.

Long-story short, we said goodbye.

… but now if you ask me whether we can start all over again. You know, my answer is obvious. I can’t. It was not because I am afraid of the void. Neither was it because I am tired of compromising your weaknesses. But after all we’ve been through, I could not place you as the stranger of my life. I could not pretend that I know nothing about you. I don’t have an overwhelming dose of curiosity on you anymore.

Besides, I could not pretend that I don’t love you.

Where has it gone?

At some point of our life, we often look back and find something we don’t realize changing.

or missing.

I look into several years back when I’ve just finished school. Things were really vibrant back then. I have always missed my friends, and considered them as the most important part of my life. But time passes, until the very time of my life when I realize that a very close connection we’ve woven meant to be beautiful, but not forever.

It has its own beauty at its time

The laughter we shared, the time we enjoyed spending as if we got all the time in the world, the road-trip, the heart-broken stories, the life-changing conversation, and … the love. We’ve all been there. It was really joyful at that time, and I am really, really thankful for those enchanting memories.

When I look back, you know, I’ve always wanted it to happen again. I’m looking forward to listening to their stories, waiting for his sincere attention when I get sick, hoping for their calling me with the nickname they created. But I soon have to realize that things aren’t the way they were anymore. And there’s just no need to wish for the things we’ve ever experienced in the past.

So, where has it gone? Nowhere. Just like a book, those memories stay in their own page. We could visit them anytime we like. But, we are not supposed to write the same story in one book, are we? So here we are, trying hard to write our own book of life with new story everyday. With the hope that someday, when we look back, we could be thankful for everything occurred in the past.

For me, I am so thankful of knowing my inner-circle. Many things have changed since then, but their willingness to accept each other and adapt to change are the reason why, up until know, this friendship survives. Maybe we live this friendship in a different way from the past, but I’m still grateful that I have people I could call friends.

How about you? What do you miss the most from your past?



It’s not until last year I realized that I have been an introvert all this time. Being an introvert does not mean that I don’t have interactions to other people. Some people, even myself, at the beginning got it wrong. Being an introvert does not exclude me from being a social creature. I need interactions with people. I even have the urge to tell my stories when bad things happen. Just like everybody.

Lately, there’s one thing which constantly occurs in my mind, it’s the question on why do I become an introvert? I wonder whether I was born as an introvert; it’s something which has run in my blood even when I did not have such consciousness to realize that I am an introvert. Or is it something gained along the way?

Having a long flashback to the past, I know that I was not born introvert. I was a loud, chitty-chatty baby who always told my parents about anything. This made them happy, of course, but things changed when I grew up. I could not forever stay inside my parents’ castle. I was urged to go out, meet new friends, and have interactions with them. Some events become my turning point, when I was voluntary forced to be what I am today, an introvert.

  1. Backstabbed

I lived a happy life as a kid. I had many friends and got along really well with them. Until one day I was placed in a class where everyone was chosen from the top-30 of the batch. They were smart, but (un)fortunately, I could still top the class’ rank. Still, I don’t think this is the only reason I was backstabbed at that time.

I believe that my personality paid contributions, too. I was a high-achiever, and somehow it was not tolerable among my friends. When I wanted a particular thing, I did not hesitate to tell people what I was running after. Later on, I learn that this is something we do not usually do among friends. That is why they did not put much empathy on me. And as a result. I was backstabbed.

Being backstabbed when you are mature enough is hard; but feeling it when you’re still in the elementary school is beyond words. I did not even think that any person could be that mean to his/her so-called friends. I regarded them as friends, so I trusted them. I told several people when I felt not comfortable with anyone around. But we’re still kids, we did not know that telling what we feel about a particular person does not mean that we speak ill of him/her. It does not mean that we are declaring a war against him/her too.

Since the backstabbed tragedy, I had trust issues with people. I did not trust them easily, not even my closest friends. They can be close, but I still realize the possibility of their turning back against me someday in the future. If not tomorrow, then it might be the day after tomorrow, and so on.

  1. Perfectionist

I want everything to look perfect; and it is not only according to me, it shall be according to other people’s opinion, too. When I do something, I would always like to receive good feedback about it. It makes me feel proud. A bad feedback, although it’s good sometimes, will cause a disappointment.

Later on I found out that it is okay to receive various kind of feedback when it comes to my work. I take that to improve my working-performance. But I do not like it when people start giving comment about my personal life. I have made my own choice and I think that’s the best for me. Therefore, I do not really need people’s opinion towards my private life. But, you know, people cannot keep their mouth shut sometimes. So the only way to make them silent is to block any information from them. I normally would not let people know about my personal preference. In that way, I could still look good in front of them, or at least I don’t receive bad comments about the things (or person) I have chosen.

  1. Conflict-avoidance

I dislike conflict; especially when it comes to the one involving high-pitched tone and shouting. So whenever I know that the things I know or I do would trigger a conflict with someone; I’d rather not telling him/her about it. It’s not always a mistake, though, but you know, I often deal with people who always fuss over and complain about anything. So I think the best way to avoid conflict is by not telling them what happen.

So, are you an extrovert or introverts? How did you turn into one?

Introductory Post


The first post of my brand new blog *popping confetti* *cheers* is an introduction of me (the writer) and the blog itself.

My name is Sally. I have just graduated and received my bachelor degree. At the time being I’m still indecisive on my next plan: am I going to pursue my master degree or working? I know this is common doubt for those who have finished their study. We should consider many things before deciding which option is more suitable for our needs. But then, making consideration is hard for us who have just live independent for four years. It happened to me, too. It feels like yesterday I’ve just graduated from high school and now I have to make decision for my life. *long sigh*

It’s interesting why I pick Quarter Life Tale as the main theme of my blog. Normally, you enter your quarter-life when you’re 25. That’s assuming that you live for a hundred year. At the time being, I am still 22, but I start writing a Quarter Life Tale because I’m not that optimistic to live my life up to a hundred. Even I do not know if I would make it to 88. What if my life ends when I’m 40? I should have written this blog since I was 10 then.

I have several choices of title before coming down to tale. Some shows how desperate and scary a quarter-life is. I had ever thought of quarter-life dilemma, quarter-life fear, and was very convinced of picking quarter-life anxiety. But then, I ask myself, would the quarter-life be that scary? I hope it wouldn’t, though. But I’m not quite sure that it would be a happy-go-lucky journey either. So here I am picking a more-neutral title for my new blog. Tale. Google told me that a tale could be either fictitious or true narrative. Hmm.. sounds really encouraging for me who loves to write anything in mind.

I imagine this blog will be full of my jibber-jabber on my current struggle (both working and studying require struggle, right?), my love-life (really? do I have one?), and of course, my future plan. Hopefully the posts would not bore the readers to death *fingercrossed*