Meet Agung. His hair and beard are short per Islamic principle. His average daily wear is a pair of semi-loose jeans or cargoes, tee over long-sleeve, and a cardigan. The setup is complete with a pair of Converse lookalikes, a large, flat ring on his fourth finger, and a cigarette in his mouth. Everything he does is accentuated by a languid drag on his cigarette, a pregnant pause, then calm, cool practiced expulsion of smoke. Agung somehow manages to vibe part grunge rocker, part beat poet, and part clean-cut Muslim.
Agung is a humble and well-grounded renaissance man. His insatiable curiosity for new experiences and all the background research behind it leads him to possess a wealth of knowledge. He easily exposits on grunge rock, K-pop, delicious food from around the world, American television, fast motorcycles, Indonesian history, Dutch architecture, drug culture, politics, religion, and anything else that interests him. Our mutual friends introduced him to me as, “The guy who knows everything about everything.” He always refutes this assertion with a guffaw and a softer, “Tidak, tidak!”. He will be the first to admit that he has learned something new. He cracks self-deprecating jokes and philosophizes in equal parts, often with a smile on his face.
Perhaps Agung’s most endearing lesser-known trait is his servant-heartedness. He prefers to be in the back, unseen, a loyal supporter of whomever stands in front. He is uncompromisingly loyal to his friends. Last year, his close friends had been cheated at work by a coworker. Agung had a crush on this coworker. After the incident he would shake his head and say, “What a b****, man!” To this day he absolutely refuses to go back to that cafe simply because they employed her. You have the best supporter in Agung if you are his friend. You’ll eventually be forgiven if you cross him. You’ve made an eternal enemy if you cross his friends.
The Secret
What few people know is that Agung is psychologically dependent on anxiolytics or painkillers. As far as I’ve known him, he has never been “high as a kite” in public. The meds bury his pain, sadness, and shame just enough for him to socially function. Agung hides himself well.
The reasons to take them are varying and complex. Agung is always searching for novel experiences. Drinking and karaoke with friends is a wonderful time. LSD or marijuana turns music into a synesthetic affair. Sex with anxiolytics was transcendental. After his first breakup, he started using to forget.
The Downward Spiral
Agung once described himself thusly: “I’m a slave to my emotions.” They went their separate ways because he could not control his anger. He did not know that he should. Truthfully, the relationship died the death of a thousand cuts. Agung’s anger was simply the last cut. Agung loves profoundly in both friendships and romance. Thus he also hurts profoundly.
Agung learned self-control at the cost of his soulmate and self-confidence that day. He suddenly lacked the ability to explain how he felt. Every word was an unsure step into unknown territory. He hated being in loud, crowded places. He felt a pressure to express himself to those around him. The noise kept him from finding the right words. When he had the words, he feared his listeners would leave once they knew his true self.
The breakup unfortunately occurred during the final stages of Agung’s bachelor degree. Agung soon found himself unable to sufficiently focus to complete the prerequisite research for graduation. His academic progress floundered to a halt. He desperately needed a push from his family but they knew nothing about his major. The best they could do was encourage him to finish, as they always had. Yet Agung did not need what so much as how.
The distance between the university and his hometown made it easy for Agung to keep secrets. Agung continued to pay the university. His family assumed all was progressing as it ought. Yet Agung truthfully only paid to extend his time to prevent dropping out. He spent all his time doing anything else to regain his equilibrium: taking pills, practicing guitar, attending Quranic studies. He felt guilty for wasting his family’s money, but there was really nothing to be done about it.
Agung saw Nesu up above on a balcony three years later. She was beautiful in the morning sunlight. It turned out that she frequented his Quranic study group. Agung’s interest was piqued. He approached her and struck a conversation. hey took things slowly, cautiously.
Dating started a year later. Nesu loved to cook; he was a lover of good food. Agung was a talker; Nesu was a listener. More importantly, Nesu’s presence in Agung’s life inspired him to be better. He rarely took pills when she was not present and never when she was. He was ready to continue his studies. They supported each other well. Talk of marriage began to develop organically.
Everything abruptly ended one year later. Nesu blindsided Agung with news that it was over. No argument, fight, or disagreement precipitated the breakup. No explanation was offered. The breakup occurred just as he was beginning to feel his old self again. Few things break a person more than being blindsided while rebuilding nascent hope. That it happened without any prior warning or rationale salted the wound. Agung’s heart was irreparably shattered that day. He is still picking up the pieces two years later.
The only reason Agung could come up with was that he was not yet an “adult”. He was 25, not yet graduated, employed, or married. By comparison, Nesu had already succeeded achieving adulthood. She could not marry down. This was the one conclusion that made sense of the “swirl and roil”. The shame he already carried deepened significantly.
Agung again found himself unable to complete his studies. Too many years had passed since he started his research. He no longer had mastery over the details. He had no care for the subject matter. Worse, he saw little reason to keep going. His second break-up had destroyed what little motivation remained.
Up the Down Escalator
Agung’s trauma froze him in place. The world changed around him. His college friends graduated, married, and held down jobs. Some have children. At least one childhood friend is pursuing a master’s degree. His younger siblings progressed; at least one has already graduated college. Agung has yet to successfully change with it.
Agung struggles with depression and loneliness. Crowded, loud environments now cause him immense anxiety. He avoids seeing childhood friends whenever he goes home. He lets his friends go as they progress, sometimes from shame and other times for fear of being a burden. It is oftentimes both. Shame has taken profound root in his identity. He is not someone who failed. Rather, he is a failure.
Considering his future prospects do not help. Agung is currently in a major he despises. He can only expect to obtain a job within that same field if he wants to have a decent salary and comfortable life. His parents expect him to help with their successful business on the side because he is the firstborn. If he could do anything, it would be to form a rock band and tour. His parents would never give their blessing for something so frivolous. Agung once said to me, “If I have to sacrifice my happiness to help my family succeed, Josh, I don’t mind.” Yet his tone is one of resignation, not altruism. He is speaking to himself as well as me.
Two years ago, Agung gave up. He amassed a large amount of pills of various types and drank all of them. His body was stronger than his spirit; he woke up to his sister’s face asking him for a favor. He was so shocked and ashamed that his sister had seen him in that state. He immediately went to accomplish said favor without first collecting himself. His sister somehow never knew.
Things took a turn for the interesting in December 2022. A family friend who was an administrator at Agung’s university took a look at Agung’s academic records and notified his parents. They naturally called him home to understand what their son had been doing all this time. Agung’s mother and father were understandably angry, but they forgave him. They encouraged Agung to hurry and return home. The past was past; the most important thing was to finish.
Despite their encouragement, Agung returned to his university city and attempted suicide again in January 2023. He informed me about it a few days afterwards. He joked, “My weapon wasn’t strong enough.” Three months later he learned of a serial killer who offered poisonous drinks to his friends so he could take their money. He searched for the fish poison online, found it, confessed it to me, and then asked to stay the night.
I’ve often probed Agung about why he was so intent on killing himself. In his words, “A huge burden would be lifted if I graduate. But I’m too weak, Josh. I’m not strong enough to do it.” I can see where he comes from. Once he graduates, Agung will not be allowed to do what he wants (make music), forced to do something he hates (work in his major’s field), and help his parents’ business (something he cares nothing for). He must do so without “his beloved.” Islam teaches that life is a test to be endured rather than experience enjoyed. He really had nothing to hope for.
Agung desperately wanted to recuperate at home surrounded by family. This was not a possibility. First, Agung could not bring himself to tell the truth after so much time (up to the time they found out). Second, education is so important within his family that he felt he had no choice but to graduate anyway. In other words, he would not be allowed to leave his university city and return home till he graduates.
Agung has many good friends in his university city who support him. At least, they would if they knew. I am one of two; the other an accidental disclosure when Agung was drunk. I also know none of us are enough motivation to continue living. That privilege is reserved for only one. Before he left for his home for Lebaran 2023, I told him, “Agung, if you don’t come back I swear I’ll kick your a** in the afterlife.” He laughed and told me he would return. I was not reassured.
Catharsis
Every day up to the middle of Ramadan 2023 was a struggle. Get up, perform prayers, take a pill, half-heartedly write his research paper, play music, or hang out with friends to keep despair and depression at bay. On days without the pills, or in the waning hours of the pills’ effects, Agung would become morose and introspective.
Two days before he went home for Lebaran 2023 (~April 22), Nesu’s father arranged to have dinner with Agung. He wanted to hear about Agung’s year. He also wanted to convey Nesu’s reasons for leaving the relationship. Agung left that dinner in a state of mild shock. He kept that night to himself and processed through it with his journal.
Agung had his first phone call with Nesu three weeks later. Nesu had been the one to send her father and set up the phone call. Nesu explained that she had cut him off because she had been scared for their future. Try as she might, she had been unable to expunge him from her heart. He had “haunted” her for 1.5 years. Agung confessed the same. Nesu asked for his forgiveness. He asked for hers. Nesu did in that conversation what 1.5 years of drug abuse, guitar practice, and journaling could not: she staunched his hemorrhaging spirit.
Nesu told Agung she was ready to try again. She would commit everything to Allah’s hands this time around rather than give in to fear. Agung considered. His heart was freshly mending. His self-confidence is still in the ground. He is still ashamed that he has yet to graduate. He told her that he needs to graduate first. She assured him she would wait.
Healing
Agung’s strength has mostly returned. He no longer wishes to end his life. He has new fire to finish his studies. Not all has changed. For example, Agung still hates his subject matter. He further conveyed all this to me while on a new painkiller that made him a bit happier than normal (as defined by other brands of painkiller). He promises himself that he will stop all his drug vices when he marries. I hope he will remain strong to keep that promise.
Nesu and Agung are now reconciled and both hearts are mending. Better, both sets of parents have given their blessing to continue on a path to marriage. Nesu and Agung have talked about starting a business together. She will provide the skill and product. He will provide the marketing and sales. Talk will not proceed much further till Agung graduates. He is working hard to graduate by August 2023.
Agung is perhaps the definitive example of love as a sharp double-edged sword. With Nesu alongside him he could do anything and everything. Life was beautiful… till it wasn’t. There was life after love but it was worth nothing. He had every reason to live yet none of it mattered. Nesu’s love was everything… and now is again.
Post-Credit Scene
Agung has always liked K-Pop, but especially Black Pink. He has at least one Black Pink shirt and some of their wallpapers for his phone. Yet each of these features only one of the four band members. He is not a fan of Rose because of Rose. He is a fan of Rose because she looks like Nesu.
We sat on my second-floor balcony in the warm midnight air. Coils of cigarette smoke lingered in the air between us. I sat cross-legged on the floor. Agung slouched against my railing. He had newly finished telling me the conclusion to his story and was introspecting in the warm, yellow glow of an incandescent light. I idly wondered what Nesu would think of all his Black Pink paraphernalia.
He smiled, took a deep drag on his cigarette, and casually replied, “I don’t care Josh. If [Nesu] tells me she doesn’t like it and wants me to burn it, that’s okay. I already have my own rose. I don’t need another.”
