I have been a professional writer for five years.

Gastronomy, lifestyle, travel, sustainability, culture, and history are some of the themes that I have worked with in the past. I love getting involves with individuals, companies, organizations, and communities with stories to tell.

Words, sentences, stories... these are my passion. I love to take new challenges in writing for various format and media. I create contents for websites, blogs, and communication materials.

Reach me at eve(dot)tedja(at)gmail(dot)com

Inside I'm Dying

Dearest Papi,

It’s been three weeks, two days and thirteen hours since you left us without even saying goodbye. My life has changed since then. Mami cries when she woke up in the morning. I try to be strong, Papi, I swear I tried, except suddenly your memory flooded me and instantly, I am lost. I can’t imagine a world without you but now I am in it. And then I cry, like the last Sunday, flashes of our Sundays running rampantly, achingly sweet.

I’ve been your daughter all my life and I don’t know any other way. You spoiled me rotten. You adored me endless. Where can I find another man doing the same thing like you do? Guys only love me for who I seem to be but not who I really am. No one can replace you in my life. Twenty three years is too short a time to be father, Papi, and your death lasted for my lifetime.

I am now sitting in your office, swirling with your bulky boss chair and typing on this huge teak table you’ve been using. Trying to be you. Be strong, they say. You have your Mami and Lil’ Bro to think of, they tell. I try hard, Papi. I’m trying not to cry all the time and lock myself inside my room to mourn; instead I put on a smile and a dress. Must make you proud, I said to myself. Charade is all I am doing these days. Inside I’m dying…

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