Five years ago, his name was in every second of my life. Even now, I still remember—perfectly—how and when I first met him. Friday night, at 08:07 PM, under the Matoa tree behind the Faculty of Biology at one of the best universities in Jogja. A meeting born out of a careless mistake.
Just because you stop loving someone doesn't mean you suddenly get amnesia, right? Especially when the memory keeps replaying itself for over 700 days.
"My name is Anisa Az Zahra. From the Faculty of Biology, class of 2013."That was my short self-introduction during the first meeting of a student organization I had just joined—a community development and social welfare group. After squeezing through a sea of applicants, I finally landed in the department I had aimed for.
Our first meeting took place at the student center. The office was on the first floor, bigger than most student activity units. The room was divided into three sections: one for executive committee meetings, another for the student senate, and the last—our meeting room—a shared central space around four-by-four meters.
I liked this room. It was spacious, with wide, low glass windows. Behind them, a small patch of grass separated us from the other units. I imagined how beautiful the view must be when the sunlight kissed that green. Too bad it was nighttime. Hopefully, the next meeting would be in the morning or late afternoon.
"I'm Arga Pangestu Jati," came the next introduction.
Ah. Definitely a Jakarta kid."From the Faculty of Geography, also class of 2013."
We were in the same year, and our faculties were next to each other. That was my first impression: he's from Jakarta. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, maybe one more thing—he was tall and handsome. A strong jawline, a prominent Adam's apple, and clear masculine features. A pointed nose and skin tone like mine, light brown. But what I liked most were his eyes—big and calm, framed by thick eyebrows.
Alright, fine. He was very handsome.But I wasn't the type to fall at first sight.
Once introductions and the agenda were done, the forum was dismissed."Let's eat, Nis. Bakwan Kawi food court. Seven thousand, including iced tea," Ama said, pulling me close."Stop drooling," I teased. "I've got something at the house at eight. It's almost time." I showed her my watch."No need to show it. I can tell," she grumbled."You need someone to eat with..." I looked around. "Tio!" I called out. "Go with Tio." I grinned.
These two were the only people I was close to here. Tio quickly approached us, no coaxing needed."Go with Ama. She's craving," I joked."Lies," she snapped."Just the two of us?"I grinned again."Can't help it if she was hoping to eat with you," Tio teased."Nisa doesn't date," Ama chimed in."Maybe she'll slip up one day.""Keep dreaming!""I say we focus on studying first. We're only in our second year. Become the top student, win some national grants, graduate with honors, go to Harvard, and then—""Are you looking for a husband or hiring a staff member?" Tio cut in.
Ama and I burst out laughing."Alright. Nisa has stuff to do. Let's go, Tio."Ama helped wrap things up—she wasn't usually this easy to leave behind."Oh, I see how it is. Kicking me out for better company now, huh?" I teased. Maybe Tio was her type—he was the only guy not dazzled by Ama's beauty.
"Bye, Nisa," Ama waved with a mischievous smile.Tio was alright. Except when he got annoying and tried to flirt—his cool points went out the window then. And I, well, I didn't believe in dating.
I smiled as they walked away.It's nice when your friends become friends with your other friends—because of you.
I walked toward the faculty building where I had parked my bike. Jogja was still peaceful back then—no noise, no traffic.
It was a joy to walk from the student center to my faculty. Past round streetlights, past groups of students relaxing near the grand hall, enjoying the night's mellow vibe. Even the umbrella benches in front of the rectorate building were filled with little discussions.
Then I saw my favorite living being in the faculty: the Matoa tree.When it bore fruit, the seniors would bring out bamboo poles to harvest them—better than buying at the store, where a handful cost twenty thousand rupiah.
Our faculty had a few Matoa trees, but the one near the parking area was my favorite. It bore the most fruit and shaded my bike from the sun.
My white bicycle with a basket—brand Phoenix, white with black accents—still stood there, faithfully waiting. I bought it six months ago because of the basket. I approached it confidently, until—
"Wait." I stopped and checked my jacket pocket. "Not here."I rummaged through my bag, pulled out my lab coat, books—still nothing."Seriously?"This wasn't the first time I lost the lock key. Third, to be exact. Before, the security guard had always helped. But it was already eight at night. Should I walk to the security post and ask one of the guards to help break the lock?
"Nisa! You're so careless."I considered leaving the bike and coming back tomorrow with the spare key—but the walk from here to my boarding house wasn't exactly scenic, especially at night.
I sighed. Time to swallow my pride and ask for help.But just as I turned around, I saw him. The guy from earlier. Arga.
He looked at me curiously—he must have been watching me spiral in panic."What's wrong?""Nisa." I reintroduced myself, seeing him struggling to remember. Maybe he wasn't good with names. Or maybe I just wasn't that memorable."Right. What's up, Nis?"
"I lost my bike lock key." I pointed to my poor bicycle.He walked over, inspected the lock. His hand turned it right, then left. He looked serious, as if calculating the best angle to break it. Wait, wasn't he a geography major? Not physics or engineering.
"Let's try something," he said, voice calm and warm. Maybe it was just the breeze and night sounds, but his voice felt... comforting.
He walked to a dark corner near the Matoa tree and came back holding a rock with a pointed edge. Of course—he's a geography kid.
"It's okay, Ga. You don't have to push yourself," I said.
"We got this, inshaAllah," he smiled. Not at me—but at the rock. He began hammering the lock.Clank. Clank.It was loud. Just watching him, I knew it must be tiring.
"It's okay. You don't have to force it.""We won't give up. We've got Allah with us."
The moment he finished that sentence, the lock snapped open.And with that, not just my bike lock, but my heart unlocked too.
I always thought guys looked most handsome when they were focused on something. The way he furrowed his brows, sweat dripping from his temple, the way he bit his lip in concentration... it was like a spotlight had singled him out.
"Done, Nis." He removed the wire cable from my bike. "Nis?" He checked if I was okay—I had been frozen in place."Thanks, Ga. By the way, where were you headed?""To pick up my motorbike. Don't judge me—I parked it here since the geography lot was full." He grinned.
No judgment, Ga. You're my hero tonight. Park here anytime.
Back then, I used to get annoyed when geography students parked in our lot. Every place had its own rules. But that night changed everything. I was willing to bend my rules for him.
If I could turn back time, this might be one of the stories I'd want to avoid. I should've kept the key. I should've declined his help. He shouldn't have parked here—he's not from Biology.
But that night, a feeling was planted.Arga Pangestu Jati.His name was beautiful—made even more beautiful that night.
And it was beautiful.Until the moment he said something that shattered me like Hiroshima in 1945.
"Hey! Earth to Nisa!"Rini shook my shoulder gently. Her nudge pulled me back to reality."Don't space out in the morning," she teased."Hmm?""You got any chicken curry Pop Mie? You usually stock them.""What am I, a convenience store?" I grumbled. "Didn't you just eat instant noodles two days ago under Building A?"
In Jogja, I spoke with a soft accent. At work now, it had turned into a Jakarta-style lo-gue slang."Come on, Nis. I'm starving.""No more left. Blame yourself for taking me to that fast food place.""What? I thought you were tired of Pop Mie?""Because you took me to that place and... never mind."I wasn't ready to talk about Arga. Not even to Rini—my friend from our teaching days to now, colleagues at the Education Ministry."There's no Pop Mie for you today."
Rini raised an eyebrow and opened my drawer anyway. She took one without hesitation."I'll replace it tomorrow," she said, grinning."Unbelievable," I muttered.If only forgetting someone was as easy as replacing a cup of instant noodles.
Bzzz. Bzzz.'Are you free this afternoon? Let's eat at FX Food Court. I still owe you a graduation treat, remember?'
Stupid me for opening the message. It was from an unnamed number I knew by heart. His number hadn't changed since college. Arga.
"Rini!" I grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. "Did you give my number to Arga?""Maybe he's your fate," she said innocently, adding seasoning to her noodles."It's time to move on from your 'one and only.'"
"Rini!" I shook her chair in frustration.This girl! I could only cry inside.Yes, Arga was my one and only.
Their first meeting happened under the Matoa tree. Do you think it was fate… or just coincidence? Let me know what you think in the comments—I'd really love to hear your feelings about this chapter.