Being a writer, there are challenges we face in our every day lives. One of the challenges is being accused as a “fabricator”, or simply liar, to put it harshly, that is. This accusation usually happens when we’re expressing our feelings, of how we adore our loved ones. And that accusation triggered solely because I’m a writer. *sigh*
One thing they don’t know, such word hurts me. Doubled, tripled, because the one who said–from all people–is the one closest to my heart (at that moment). Saying those things is just as same as if they shoot me, right to the heart. Point blank. BANG!!!! π Destroyed. Into tiny pieces. π
Painful, because it means they questioned my intelligent in sorting out which are fictions and which are facts. Also, it means they doubting my honesty. I don’t need to convince people that I’m an honest person, but my parents taught me: “Honesty is the golden rule.”–it’s everything. Alas, this honesty also keeping me from having second thought of expressing my opinions and feelings. I tend to express everything I have in me directly, spontaneously, honestly. That, and I called as a “liar”? Damn, Daniel!! That hurts. Deep!
Okay, so I understand, a woman seducing her man is highly uncommon in my country. It even perhaps considered as taboo, or tabooed. Patriarchy much, eh, Indonesia? π
π’ Ah, well, forget it. I won’t talk about our socio-cultural thing of my country.
It’s just that, the scar is there.
Don’t they know, even for a writer and ex journalist for crime-law and politics desk like myself, admitting my feelings into a writing is something really hard to do. Alright, so I am good with words and I have vast vocabularies, and I can do it in 3 languages—so what? Don’t you know, it takes GUTS, bravery, and wall-thick face to surface the feelings I have deep inside my chest.
And just because I am able to stay in touch with the romantic side of my, able to animate, ensoul, to dive within my heart and pull it to the surface to be expressed, then I am called a “fabricator”? After all the trouble I have to go through, ripen this thought, stringing the words that gave birth to sweet, kind, seductive, tempting, beautiful sentences, then I am called, “You’re a fiction-stories writer. Easy for you to make bullshit like this. You didn’t really mean it…” π
What the fuck, man! *pardon my French*
To hear that, as if a big piece of my heart just fell off from its place, vaporized into thin air, changed into sub atoms that turns into nothingness. Leaving me writhing in agony of a bloodless injury.
π’ Am I exaggerating it? No. It’s exactly how I feel.
Isn’t a (male) partner supposed to be someone who is really taking care of our feeling by being careful with his mouth? Doesn’t he know, all those seducing sentences were expressed to make him understand that I appreciate his presence; that I love him the best way I know how; and that I actually wanted to hear a feedback, his appreciation back, as simple as, “Thank you for making me feel that I mean a lot for you, darling. I love you more and more each day..” See? As simple as that! ππ
Ah.. nevermind (again). *sigh* Simply, we’re not meant to be.
This article is dedicated to the partners of fellow writers, authors, editors: Please, appreciate the effort of my fellow writers who have tried their best to compose their seductive sentences for you, because you are the closest persons on earth in their hearts. I swear, the only reaction we expect is as simple as: “Thank you, I love you too, dear.” And maybe with a big hug for them. Trust me, their words–as long as it’s not a plagiarism–are pure, sincerely, that came from their hearts. ππ
Just because we are writers or authors, does not mean that we are liars. We are much more precious than that. π
