Kali Ini Saya Akan Lawan #yapping

I never imagined that, at this age, I would find myself entering a chapter of life like this. I will be the first person in my family line to end a marriage. I never thought I would hire a lawyer either. It was certainly never something I put on my vision board. It all seemed to arrive without warning, like a tsunami.

This morning, I overslept and left for work late. But thanks to flexitime, I still managed to clock in on time. Even so, I felt guilty because oversleeping was still my fault. There was a reason for it, though. I did not arrive back in Tasikmalaya until 2:30, and I could not fall asleep until 4:00.  

Then, earlier this morning, Rendy, my lawyer, contacted me with several questions that needed immediate answers. While covering the TPT service desk, I replied to him, responded to a few WhatsApp messages, and took short breaks whenever I was not calling the next person in the queue.  

Then, just as our shift at the service counter was almost over, someone suddenly sent a message to the WhatsApp group. The message essentially said that we should keep calling the queue, even though our shift was nearly finished, instead of doing things unrelated to work. But I know he direct it to me.

I was cramping, dealing with PMS, and already exhausted, so I finally responded. It was the kind of remark I would normally never answer. I had always stayed quiet and allowed them to make their little jabs in the group, but this time, I spoke up. “Kenapa memang nya? Kayak yang lain nggak pernah melakukan hal selain TPT aja. Lagian aku sudah manggil antrian 19/59, sabar.” The only response I received was, “Okay.” Bitch. 

Then the Unlucky Bastard appeared and quoted my message. “Untung saja KPP bukan Swasta.” Pure rage baiting. Asshole. 

I immediately felt drained, but I tried not to let myself be provoked. Honestly, I usually treat every message he sends as background noise. As far as I am concerned, he barely exists.  

What unsettled me, however, was that his exact remark happened to be one of the opening lines of a post on my blog, something I had written the previous Wednesday while covering the service counter. I desperately want not to overthink it, but that would be one hell of a coincidence, wouldn’t it? Still, I do not care.  

My blog is my safe space, a place where I can write and say whatever I wish. Besides, I have not even shared it with anyone lately. I simply write there and enjoy being its only reader. What right does he have to object to what I write on my own blog? What right does he have to feel angry or offended by the contents of my heart? Fuck off.  

From the very beginning, everything he has written or said in the group has sounded bitter to me. I never want to point to other people’s mistakes simply to justify my own behavior, but look at everyone else. They often arrive late or ask for permission to do this or that. But they do not do those things deliberately, do they? Neither do I.  

I do not deliberately arrive late. I do not deliberately spend too long in the restroom. I do not deliberately make mistakes. So why am I always the one he singles out and targets with his remarks? Always.  

If the Unlucky Bastard has a personal problem with me, then let us address it properly. But he never does that. Instead, he goes to our boss and complains about me, speaking as though he had already confronted me directly and I had simply refused to listen. Asshole. 

He even started counting how many people he had called from the queue and comparing that number with mine. Freak. Eventually, his behavior forced me to start doing the same thing, simply so I could protect myself. 

When he made that remark, one of my friends, someone more senior and mature, suddenly came over to me and said, “Tenang Sal, nggak usah dibalas. Biar nanti aku coba ngomong. Masa satu tim tapi kayak begini.”  

Honestly, at that moment, I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry simply because I literally sad. 😒

What happened in July had already hurt me enough. My marriage was falling apart in the most complicated way, and then a coworker who had made no effort to understand suddenly reported me. After that, I tried my best to meet whatever standards they expected to me. Yet even after everything that had happened, they still seemed determined to search for new reasons to make their nasty little remarks.

I never told them what I was going through. Why would I? So they could laugh at me? 

It was enough for my boss to know. Or perhaps my silence makes them uncomfortable. Perhaps they are annoyed by the fact that I keep to myself. But what exactly am I supposed to do? Pretend to be cheerful and make meaningless small talk? Not my style.  

I am grateful that, little by little, the problems in my life are beginning to unravel. I believe everything can be resolved gradually. Once I have made my way through this, I will move on to whatever comes next with greater focus and confidence.  

As for the Unlucky Bastard, I will leave him alone. I only want to work and fulfill my responsibilities properly.  

Him? As far as I am concerned, he no longer exists. 

“The whole conflict will see its beginnings in significant relationships where they meet with a need for action. A choice will arise, one having to do with a serious conversation with your partner.”