By: Arah Bijak Fadhilah
English Version
A sunflower—what do you think when you see this flower? People say that the sunflower is a symbol of happiness. But not many know that they often grow in places where they are not wanted. They turn toward the sun, trying to find light just to survive. But in the end, they wither because they were never meant to be there.
This is the end of Sabrina’s love story—she can’t keep going in a place where she is no longer wanted.
---
In the dim twilight, as the sky melted into a golden hush, a girl sat curled up by the window in a small room. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her fingers clutching a bouquet of sunflowers. The bright yellow petals seemed to contradict the weight in her heart. Every so often, she sobbed in silence while staring at the sky, then her gaze fell upon the bouquet in her hands—and instantly, a painful sigh escaped her lips.
The more she looked at the flowers, the more memories played in her mind like a film reel. Sweet memories of how sunflowers became a symbol of her love with a boy named Alan. This bouquet wasn’t just a collection of flowers. It was a witness—a silent spectator to the long nights they spent together, the laughter shared on motorcycle rides around the city, the first time they sat side by side in a dark theater, stealing glances at each other.
And that morning. The morning by the roadside when their motorcycle broke down due to a flat tire. Alan had looked at her with an exhausted but warm expression and said,
"I’m grateful you’re here. I couldn’t do this without you."
At that moment, Sabrina had simply chuckled and replied,
"Me too. I couldn’t do this without you."
Those words should have meant something. Everything they had been through together should have been enough to make Alan hold on to her. But in the end, she was alone.
The beautiful memories had once been reality—until everything stopped on one fateful day.
---
That day.
The day everything began.
Alan was chosen as the lead actor in his class theater project.
"Sabrina, I got the lead role. But I don’t think I can do it."
Alan was always a pessimist, and Sabrina knew that. That’s why she never once left his side. When Alan began doubting himself over the role, Sabrina held his hands and reassured him,
"I believe you’ll do great." She looked into his eyes and added, "I will always be with you."
Alan gave a small smile and nodded.
"I hope you’re right, Sab."
Day after day passed. There were about three months of preparation before the play. And during all that time, Sabrina never truly left Alan’s side. Since the day he was given the lead role, Sabrina had been his rock. She helped him memorize his script, stayed up late with him to practice, and calmed his nerves whenever he started doubting himself.
Alan was always insecure, and Sabrina was always there to convince him that he could do it.
Not once did Sabrina complain. Even when Alan became overwhelmed—stressed out by internal conflicts in the production team and the director who abandoned the project a month before the performance—she remained patient. One evening, Alan vented his frustrations while they were supposed to be rehearsing. Instead of being annoyed, Sabrina felt sorry for him. She simply pulled him into a silent embrace, holding him close without saying a word.
Time went on, and Alan became more irritable. Even with Sabrina. He seemed deeply stressed and started avoiding her. Noticing this change, Sabrina couldn’t help but wonder—why was Alan avoiding her? Logically, she was the one person who had always supported him. If he was struggling with the world, shouldn’t she be his safe place, as she had always been? But this time, it was different.
Sabrina reassured herself, thinking maybe the pressure was just too much and Alan needed space. She decided not to push him, respecting his need for solitude.
---
Three days before the play, Sabrina ordered a bouquet of sunflowers for Alan. A small gift to remind him how far he had come. Since the beginning of their relationship, sunflowers had been their little symbol—a flower that was bright, strong, always facing the sun. Just like Sabrina, who always turned toward Alan. She smiled softly, imagining the moment she would hand him the flowers after his performance, picturing the return of that warm smile on his face.
---
The day before the play, during the dress rehearsal, Sabrina decided to surprise him. She arrived quietly, eager to see how far Alan had come.
She scanned the stage setup, watching as the crew made final adjustments. There were people waiting to watch—some were there for their friends, others for their lovers, just like Sabrina. She spotted some actors warming up their voices, but Alan was nowhere to be seen.
Her eyes searched for him in the crowd.
When the rehearsal started, she finally saw him on stage, running through a few crucial scenes under the director’s scrutiny. Sabrina waved at him from the audience, but he either didn’t see her or was deliberately ignoring her.
Her chest tightened.
After the rehearsal, as the actors left the stage, she followed Alan, calling his name. But he kept walking as if he hadn’t heard her.
It hurt.
Her intuition screamed at her to keep going. Through the hallways, weaving through the crowd of crew members, she followed him to the backstage area.
And there, she saw it.
Alan.
Standing in the corner of the room, still in costume. But his eyes—eyes that once held uncertainty and reliance on her—were now soft. But not for her. In front of him stood another girl. His co-star.
Sabrina held her breath.
She watched as Alan smiled at her—not a mere professional smile, but something deeper. His hand reached out, touching the girl's arm with familiarity that couldn’t have been built overnight. And the worst part?
The girl smiled back. The same smile Sabrina used to see in the mirror.
Her lips trembled.
She turned to a passing crew member, her voice shaking,
"Excuse me... that girl beside Alan... are they dating?"
The crew member glanced over and nodded casually,
"Oh, yeah, that’s his co-star. They just got together recently. Guess they’re in that honeymoon phase where they can’t hide it."
Sabrina’s fingers clenched the strap of her bag. Tears she had been holding back finally spilled over. In that dim backstage area, amidst the fading lights, she realized—Alan had found a new sun.
---
She rushed home, her steps unsteady, the cold evening air biting at her skin. Her emotions churned—anger, sorrow, disbelief. Had everything she done been for nothing?
As she neared her house, a deliveryman called her name.
"Sabrina? Here’s your bouquet order."
The sunflowers.
The ones meant for Alan.
---
Now, in her dimly lit room, she sat clutching the flowers that felt like salt on an open wound. Tears streamed down as memories played in her head—the nights she stayed up for him, the messages of encouragement, the words she whispered to build him up.
None of it mattered.
Staring at her reflection in the window, she saw swollen eyes and exhaustion. But the longer she looked, the clearer one thing became: she didn’t want to cry over this anymore. She inhaled deeply. Then, she stood up. She wiped her tears, fixed her hair, and picked up the sunflowers—not as a gift, but as a symbol. Without looking back, she walked out of her room, ready to face the day.
---
12:00 PM, the theater opened.
Sabrina's steps felt heavy as she entered the building. The space buzzed with voices—laughter, excited conversations, and the hurried footsteps of the crew making sure everything went smoothly. Everyone was eager. Everyone was looking forward to this performance.
She moved through the venue quietly, her eyes scanning the stage that would soon belong to Alan. There he stood, preparing behind the towering red curtain.
For a moment, Sabrina asked herself:
Why am I here?
Not for Alan.
Not for the memories that now felt empty.
She was here for herself. To witness the end of something she had once cared for with all her heart.
The bouquet of sunflowers remained in her grasp, her fingers tightening around the stems as if they were the only thing she had left to hold on to from everything that had passed.
Then, the lights dimmed.
The curtain rose.
Sabrina took a slow breath and let the story unfold toward its conclusion.
---
Applause thundered through the room.
Sabrina remained seated, letting the sound fill the space around her. The stage lights shone brightly, illuminating Alan as he stood in the center, basking in his final spotlight of the night. He smiled proudly, giving a small bow as a gesture of gratitude to the audience.
Sabrina watched him.
So confident.
So alive.
So far away from her now.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, allowing the celebratory chaos to pass her by. People gathered around Alan, congratulating him, taking pictures, sharing in his success. The flashes of cameras flickered, laughter filled the air.
Finally, Sabrina stood up.
Her steps were slow as she walked toward the front of the stage. In the midst of the smiling, laughing crowd, she moved unnoticed, like a shadow slipping through the glow of the lights.
Until, at last, she stood before Alan.
Alan saw her. As if only now realizing she was there.
The bouquet of sunflowers was still in her hands, its petals slightly wilted but still intact.
"Congratulations," Sabrina said softly.
But her voice was enough to silence Alan. The people around them continued talking, but their voices faded, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them.
Alan looked at the flowers. His fingers twitched hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure whether to accept them or not. Sabrina extended the bouquet slightly, offering it without hesitation.
"I know everything, Alan," she said, her voice calm, yet something in it made Alan's chest tighten.
"I saw the way you looked at her. The way you held her hand. I remember when you used to look at me like that… and how long it’s been since I last felt it."
Alan opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"I didn't come here to ask for an explanation," she continued. "I just wanted to give you this."
Her gaze flickered to the bouquet still in her hands before she looked back at him.
"The flowers I always gave you. The ones you always said represented us."
Alan swallowed hard.
"But you’ve already pulled up the roots," she added. "And I can’t keep watering something that no longer wants to grow."
Alan froze.
Sabrina gave him a faint smile—her last smile for him—before turning around and walking away, leaving the celebration behind.
Alan didn’t say a word.
He could only watch as Sabrina’s fragile figure disappeared into the crowd, realizing that the sunflower that had always stayed for him had finally withered.