Batavia was monotonous, or so I discovered upon setting my foot on the coarse gravel of the port.

"Haasten, Anna. Haasten,"

The place was exactly like what my friends Carlijn and Maria had described earlier before I left in school.

They had only been in the Netherlands for a year, juxtapose with the whole sixteen years I spent in my country of birth.

Carlijn and Maria were both born in Hindia, Carlijn in Soerabaja and Maria in Batavia. They were both second cousins, their fathers acquiring a relatively huge family business exporting spices from Molukken back to the Netherlands.

Of course, upon hearing of my father's relocation by his company to Batavia, Carlijn and Maria both approached me in class and started describing how incorrigibly plain the place is.

"Grey, im zeggen u Anna. We were both born and raised there so perhaps all we had been accustomed to were the bleakness of Hindia. We never noticed the starkness of poor old Batavia while we were there because we did not have anything to compare it with. Every object is measured as relatives to other objects. We had no relatives to measure Hindia by, but upon reaching Netherlands last year, we soon realized what a benediction it was to finally be home. Pray God, we simply cannot imagine having lived in Batavia all those years, the thought in itself is frightening,"

I did not know how to respond to Carlijn's drear depictions of Batavia. Papa had promised a land of sunshine, and wealth; a land of promises and beauty. I trusted Papa because he had never let me down. However, as Papa and Mama both loaded our bags to the horse carriage that is going to take us to our housing for the night before we impart on a longer journey to Soerabaja tomorrow morning, I took a closer, more scrutinizing look at the colony around me.

A chill ran up my spine, an eerie chill, and as I turned around to climb up the carriage I bumped into a girl, perhaps my age with long thick, black curls. She fell to the ground almost abruptly, and I did to.

She looked at me, eyes clearly terrified.

"Maaf Madam. Maaf,"

As the girl stood up, I saw that her arms were covered with scar, and that there were marks which looked like burn wounds in some places on her right leg.

The girl looked at me again, before she picked up her steps and hurried away from me.

"Anna Maria, Bent u al terecht? Hurry, get on the carriage. We have a long way to go,"

Father helped me got up on the carriage and as it trotted away I could not help but turn around and look at the girl. Her small figure slowly disappearing as it disappeared deeper and deeper into the busyness of the port.

The same chill ran up my spine. I did not know why, but this second one felt more uncannily eerie.

every time i listen to this song,
i begin to think of you.
there's something about the way the lyrics are put together
amalgamated from a million different things,
that makes me realize, no matter where i am,
or whatever i'm doing,
that though i may be extremely and infinitely sure that
you're the only exception,
you're just not.

yes, i'm too nice.
yes, i daydream too much.
yes, i believe in sweetness too much,
and accept reality too little.
yes, i'm too naive,
but i've been always been all these things,
and i will always be these things.

i think everyone looks for love,
no matter how cold they may be,
or how indifferent they are to their feelings,
they all look for love,

this love that we all look for, is the same kind of love,
a love that could traverse oceans,
last through life threatening moments,
sacrifice beyond limits,
and is patient at all circumstances.

and i realize that these were all the different things i thought i found in you,
because you were those things to me and so much more,
you were looking for love,
but you weren't looking for me,
and i on the other hand,
was unequivocally looking for you.

right now,
you're no longer the last thing i think about before i sleep,
nor the first thought that appears in my mind when i wake up.
i no longer think about all the wrong things you have done to me,
or all the wrong things i have done to you in return.
i don't think about how we tried to fix each other up so hard,
that we ironically ended up breaking each other, so much harder.
the words 'what if' no longer appears in my mind, because i no longer think about
what would've happened if my desires and yours intersected back then,
and if circumstances allowed us to be together.
i don't feel an interminable emptiness in my heart anymore when i'm alone,
and i don't cry when i realize that you're no longer there to fill the emptiness,
because by now,
i've already gotten the piece back,
and, albeit with you,
i can finally be whole again.

back then,
i thought that the only way i could ever heal was if you somehow returned back to my life
and once again, pick me up and help me heal.
there weren't any alternatives back then.
but then i realize that healing would always have to naturally start with me,
and the invincible ability of time, distance and our innate power, no matter how invisible this may be at times,
to slowly cover all the wounds, fill me up, and make me whole again.

you were once everything to me,
and i would be lying to myself if i said that i don't have feelings for you,
because i would always love you,
though the thing that makes this love different,
is how i have now realize that i will always love the person you were to me before
and not the person who you are now.
in life, it is physically and emotionally impossible for a person to fall in love with just one thing,
i fall in love with a million different things everyday,
and you just happen to be one of them.

right now,

i believe that one day,
though it may not be to you,
i would finally have be able and allow myself to look at someone in the eye and say,
darling,
you are the only exception