Polite strangers

 

This is what we became,…..polite strangers, but today I am done with this ridiculous politeness. I don’t want to ask you to “call me whenever its convenient for you”, I don’t want to “thank you so much”, and I don’t want to use the most neutral emojis in my messages. Today I want to scream, today I want to blame, today I want to fight. Yes, I want to fight.

It is you who must be blamed, you did not give us a chance, you were the one who kept jumping from one stage to the other. You, you were the one who created phases. I was floating, gliding, flying in your love. I was really happy, no, I was in the utmost state of happiness. Now, I am numb, and I hate the polite tone we are using, strangers, we became strangers.

“Call me whenever it is convenient for you”. What is this? This is what we reached; this is how we are dealing with each other. Nothing is convenient for me; nothing is convenient at all. I am waking up every day with a dozen of modes, a dozen of ideas, a dozen of decisions and endless defeats.

“How was your day?”. You will say “fine” or “elhamdollelah”. But what shall I say if you ever ask how was my day? I don’t know, frankly, I don’t know. I am just pushing the days, as we say in our witty Egyptian dialect, pushing the days till one day you will say, “Let’s give it another try”. I am pushing the days till I receive a message saying “yalla let’s meet”. I am pushing the days till you become a memory. I am not sure how will I feel then. Anyway, I don’t know how do I feel now, no idea at all.

I said I want to fight today, yes…yes, you ruined everything. You did not give us a chance. Was all this happiness too much for you? Could not you bear such joy? Or did you know that this story was never going to last? Too good to be true. Why did not you just give us more time, a few more weeks, a few more days, a few more memories for me to live on.

As you see, I can not fight. I don’t know what to tell you, apart from the polite messages, the silly emojis, and the mundane questions. I don’t know what to tell you. I already told you everything. I told you that I loved more than I understood, more than I imagined, and unfortunately more than I should. Now, there is a scary void in me, or I became that scary void. I became lifeless, and now can I bear any nice word? Can I bear any beautiful smile? Can I bear any charming photo? Why not, aren’t we now polite strangers?