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I'm shaking as I type this.  After so many years I haven't update my blog, but i feel like now i need it more than ever.  Writing use to be my therapy.  so. my husband died. on 22-11-22 to be exact.  85 days ago  there. i say it.  you won't believe how much courage i've gathered to type this post here. the very blog that witness our journey. from a hopeless teenager, to finally got married, and eventually became parents of two adorable kids. too bad i didn't get a chance to update it more. however i frequently updated my twitter & instagram. so there are traces of our journey there as well.  how do i feel? PAIN. EXCRUCIATING PAIN. A PAIN THAT IMPOSSIBLE TO CURE My heart so tattered that there's nothing more to be torn. He died a sudden death. I won't go into details, at least not now. Our 20 years journey ended abrubtly. there goes our future hopes and dreams. __________________ I begin to questioning the existence of God. We've lead a good life. we&
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still..

current mood : still upset Every children biggest dream would always be make their parents proud. Including me. But how? Many whispers came to my ear that said, "Go ahead and find your place at your Dad's Co.", "Why wasting more time with useless job?", "Don't ever try to work in a -desperately-needing-investment Bank!", and blah and blah and blah. Dude I really wanna show my Dad that I can earn myself money. Now my new car is on its way to my garage doesn't mean I'm fully happy. I mean, I feel very grateful with my Dad's present, but I realize that it will burden me. How long until I can earn my own money? Let's rewind to two years ago, when my friends busy to get a part-time job. This "part-time job" means SPG (Sales Promotion Girl), or Bridesmaid (at someone else's wedding), or Wedding Organizer's crew. That's all we can do for our status as a under-graduate student. Nothing else more and nothing else better
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W.W-II

My boyfriend and I have been fighting a lot lately.  What the heck is our problem? What is left to fight about? Don't we fight enough? I thought seven-and-a-half years is more than enough to get to know each other. Seven years ago, what we fought about was jealousy. I hate seen him with his female friends (let alone his ex girlfriend!) I hate to accept the fact that he loved his bike more than me, I mad when he late to picked me up. Seven years later, the problems between us are rapidly growing, to some serious ones.  Here comes the question: WHAT KIND OF MOTHER WOULD YOU BE? ...dead silence... That second I thought, holy shit.  How could he ask this weird, tricky, and unimaginable question? Honestly, I couldn't help it. He trapped me.  I muted for a while. Not because I didn't know the answer, of course I want to be not just good, but a GREAT mother (who doesn't anyway?)  But Dieter isn't the type of man who easily satisfied with a shortcoming answer. He needs e
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