Time goes by slowly when someone waits. For Charles, the days in Medan were like an endless labyrinth. He goes through the office routine with a body present but an absent mind. Every cell phone notification makes him hopeful. And every unanswered hope slowly becomes a small wound that accumulates.
It had been three days since the last message he sent to Erin. A long message that he wrote at night with trembling fingers, hoping that Erin would read and understand his heart. But like the previous messages, it was only read. There was no reply. There is no explanation. Only the silence is getting more and more piercing.
Charles is not one to give up easily. But he is not stupid either. He knows when someone starts to move away. He knows when love starts to lose its place. But the heart, often refuses to accept what is already clear in front of the eyes.
In between his busy lives, Charles tries to entertain himself. He went to the gym more often, hung out with coworkers, and even reopened old books he used to read with Erin. But none of them really managed to distract him. All the way still brought her mind back to one name: Erin.
One night, Charles dared to call Erin.
Very. Twice. Three times.
Not lifted.
A few hours later, he received a text message.
"Sorry, I'm busy. I'll tell you later."
That's it. Cold. Formal. It's too short for someone who used to spend hours just telling stories about poetry, stray cats on campus, or the twilight sky.
Charles stared at his phone screen for a long time. His hands wanted to type a lot of things, but not a single word felt right. He felt like he was standing in front of a closed door, and the only key had been thrown away.
On the other hand, he still maintains hope, even if it is as small as dust. He tries to believe that this is just a phase. That maybe, Erin is really tired. That it's not about the third person. It's not about fading love. Just a pause.
But reality began to erode her faith when she saw an upload on Erin's social media. A photo in the café with the caption: "Nice evening with new friends."
In the photo, there is a man sitting across from the table. His face wasn't fully visible, but it was enough to make Charles' chest feel tight.
He was not angry. He is also not jealous in the cliché sense. He was just disappointed. Not because Erin met someone else, but because Erin stopped sharing her world with him.
Charles spent the night playing back an old voice note from Erin. The girl's voice still sounded cheerful, laughing as she read a poem, or simply saying, "Don't forget to eat, huh." Now, all of them feel like fragments of different lives.
The next day, Charles sat alone again in his small apartment. Cell phone in hand, his fingers dancing on the screen, trying to write something. He wants to be honest, but he also doesn't want to look forced. He wanted to be close, but he was also afraid of looking sad.
Finally, he simply wrote:
"If you don't want this to continue, I won't force it. I'm just curious. Because your silence hurts more than anything."
The message was not immediately sent. He reread it several times, then saved it in the draft. He didn't know if he wanted Erin to get back, or if he was just reading and understanding.
That night, Charles went out. He walked aimlessly on the sidewalks of Medan City which were still congested. Vehicle lights, noise, and unfamiliar faces became the background of the chaos in his heart. He felt unfamiliar in the crowd. Feeling out of place in a relationship that he once believed was the most honest.
When he reached the city park, he sat on a bench, looking at the starless sky. He remembers Lake Toba. Remember the old bench. Remember Erin laughing as she held up her camera.
And for the first time, Charles began to ask the thing he had been avoiding:
"Can love end for no apparent reason?"
He had not found the answer that night. But what was clear was that he was beginning to feel that Erin... are no longer in the same place. Charles took a deep breath, trying to get rid of all the mess that was suffocating his chest. But the night air of Medan City is not clean enough to calm the heart. He lowered his head, stared at the shoes that had begun to get dirty from the dust of the streets, then sighed again, heavier than before.
He opened his phone, staring at the draft message that had not been sent. His hands were shaking, not because it was cold, but because he was conscious... Sending that message means opening up the possibility of an end.
He hates the word "end."
But he is also tired of loving alone.
Finally, with a single tap, the message is sent. No immediate notifications read, no replies. Only the screen is blank and his heartbeat is getting louder.
On the park bench, Charles sat for hours. He didn't know what he was waiting for—a reply to a message, Erin's voice, or maybe just a little magic. But all that came was the wind, and the sound of passing vehicles, indifferent to the grief of a man who was slowly disappearing.
As the night wore on, Charles stood up. He returned home with the same body, but a heart that was no longer intact. And in his head, only one question kept repeating:
"How can someone change... without giving any explanation?"