love cocoon

Love Cocoon
Short Story Ahmadun Y Herfanda
Each saw cocoon palm fronds on my porch I always rememberbeloved words: we, you and I, is a cocoon, waiting time to pack and fly off into butterflies, locusts, or maybe bird life."I like butterflies. With glowing wings we will fly to the sky," said my beloved, full of imagination ..But I was too old to sleep in the cocoon of my soul that knows how centuries. However, my boyfriend convinced, the longer we dwell on it, the more matanglah our souls and our bodies more powerful anyway. "If you were a butterfly, you'll be a strong butterfly. If you're a grasshopper, grasshopper shall be mighty," he said.But, what if we do not get anything, or even die in the cocoon, because they do not have the strength to escape the confines of the pain. "Oh no. We were to proceed," he said. "We have to live to be a process."To be? Into what? I do not know the answer, because I do not have goals. I want to live just like water flowing, blowing like the wind, spread like sand, like a salt soak, penetrate the soul like grass.But, in the words of my beloved, I live my life as well as the process of becoming. I live day-to-day sweet, too bitter days, with people who come into contact with me, together with the souls who are willing to share. College, dating, work, build careers, years, centuries, until seemed lumutan.But, I really can not stand too long stages of fear of becoming celibate bachelor obsolete. So, I got married so find a girl that I like and are willing to share even more sharing of grief before kuntuntaskan loved him. Meanwhile, my beloved so hold live stages, celibate for so long, at least until we meet again in Jakarta."I want to firm in love, first love," he said. I was both shocked and stunned. "Are not we still in the same cocoon of love? 'Wings we are growing to be able to fly as a butterfly, together," he added. Imaginative once. Exceeds the imagination of a poet."But I'm married and have children. Again I'm not the first," I said. "Come back you into kepompongku to fuck like the old days," he said."But what kepompongku?""Throw it out.'s No use. It has been broken by a marriage without love.""What, No love? Ah ... you're wrong. I love my wife.""How can you say that if your love is left here, in kepompongku. Every moment I can feel a pulse."I wanted to deny his words, that I really love my wife, though at the same time loving boyfriend. Are not ordinary men share the love, because the nature of man is polygamous? Because of that, although I have to give love to my wife, I also still love her. "I still love you. I was eager to unite the soul in a cocoon of love," I said finally.To be honest, I did not lie to my conscience that I married not only because of love. But, more due responsibilities and obligations. I do love my wife, but only half of my heart. Because, in the words of my beloved, my love still left half and throbbing in the cocoon.
And so. These days I go through the double romance. At home Isex with my wife, compassionate with my children, and building a life with their sakinah. On certain days I lead the prayers to them, and accompany them to read the Koran in compassion of the Almighty. However, outside the home I have always longed to enter the cocoon of love my beloved, to meet unmet, love that has not tercintai.Sometimes, the words are tired of playing the wonderful imaginations that it's what I do while staring at a beautiful face and smile like a slice of snow we create a cocoon of blankets somewhere cool and quiet."It's time we get into a real cocoon," he said each time we stretched a thick blanket as usual.And we also were in the blanket that covers from the toe to the end of our hair. As before, when we were both in Yogya, I again felt a warm body, his heart, his breathing soft and fragrant hair."What should we do now?" he asked."We sleep like a baby butterfly wings until we grow mighty to fly to the sky together," I said."Do you still want to enjoy my virginity.""Who does not want to enjoy the virginity of girls as pretty as you? But, no. I do not want to deprive your husband. Whoever he is, later. I prefer to keep the purity of our love, no sex!""You are a remarkable man.""Amazingly stupid, you mean?""Ha ha ha ...!"My girlfriend laughed at in a blanket, quite loudly, to cocoon our love seemed to vibrate going to explode. Sure, laugh at my ignorance. But, oddly enough, ten years, he remained patient maintained his love for men as stupid as me. Is not it meant to him, my love, is also stupid like me? Yes, he wants would-continue to love a man who is no longer possible to marry her, because had a wife and a son. Is love is the mystery of the elusive, an irresistible presence and hard driven away? Or, we really strange people who want to continue to make love to the extent the beauty of imagination?As a career woman who is quite lovely instead there has never been another man who wants a lover. A lot. Lots. Several times I had caught him dairy walking with a man in a mall or a movie theater lobby. But, again, every time kupergoki so, not long after he immediately called me that he was just a regular fella.One day I saw my beloved had also chased by a manager where she works. I heard he was very interested in him. My love is approached by a smooth sedan, opened the door and was admitted. However, with a smooth lover refused. And, when I asked why, my love only replied, "I still like to sleep as a baby butterfly in the cocoon of our love."Sometimes I feel afraid, too, lest my beloved actually waited proposal to marry. Because, one day, he once said, "I often feel created just for you." And, not that I did not dare to propose and marry her, or intend to deliberately trick on him. Absolutely not! But more because I already have children and wives, and frankly do not have the guts to polygamy. Sometimes, I want to be desperate to marry her as a second wife. But I looked at the face of each wife and children-innocent innocent of innocent, now sleep like the whole fate handed to me, I was not quite bring myself to do it. I can not bear to imagine my family, who I coached ten years, suddenly scattered as my second marriage.But, what if my boyfriend really waiting for me, and kept waiting for many more years, decades longer, centuries longer, until the whole beauty lost in vain? Would not that mean I wasted? Would not that mean I sinned?