Move.....

 

Its time to return to real life. The story ended; the taste of your memories faded away. You have to admit that you stopped refereeing to it as your love story, I caught you thinking of it as the encounter, or even the “thing”, so lets pick up what you dropped, family, friends, work, and most importantly let us pick you up. Rise from the rubble, not like a legendary creature, just stand up as a man. An ordinary man who got his heart broken, yet he also got a clearer vision of how he should deal with his feelings. The first step is the hardest as they say, and laying down is a delicious feeling, we all know this, what can be more enjoyable than self-pity, but aren’t you done with all this whining? Aren’t you even bored? The life that Im pushing you to join is boring too, difficult and harsh but at least it is real. Real problems, real fights and real feelings. There is nothing fluffy there, no sweet melodies, no magical colors and no sheer happiness, but there is the taste of reality, which is a strong one.

You will stumble, more than once. It will be painful, you will be lonely and you will feel neglected and ignored, so what? C’est la vie. You have been in your imaginary world for so long, and its not only unhealthy but it’s pathetic. You got all your views distorted, and you wasted a hell of a time. I see you sitting in front of me as a human lump, with dead eyes and expressionless tired face, I don’t have any empathy for you. I am done with baby sitting you, I waited for a proper awakening, and you seemed unwilling to stand still, move your feet and take the first step. But now, I will push you, I will drag you if this is what I have to do.

I wish you didn’t consume all your love on that goddess that you foolishly created. I wish you left a sip of love, so that you can save yourself. You need to love yourself a bit, real and genuine love, not your naïve perception of love, but the kind of love that will make you stable. Aren’t you done by clumsiness? Madness? Romance? All these illusions, doesn’t it feel boring in your surreal world? Anyway, you don’t have to be convinced, put on the auto-pilot mode and move. Move….move….move.

A few questions

When did I idealize you? Or did I idolize you?

Was it from the very beginning, love at first sight as the teenagers say? Or was it a gradual process, in which I carried you to the highest skies while saving myself a place in the lowest hell. Maybe it all happened as we left, ooops, let me be accurate, as I was suddenly and cruelly kicked out of your life. Yes, we tend to exaggerate the value and importance of what we lose, we feel our loss, our need to them and how our lives all of a sudden seem unfamiliar and barren. I created my own goddess, whether quickly or at a rational pace, my creation was too good even for a goddess, I gave you every possible virtue, beauty, wisdom, elegance, and unfortunately, I gave you the right to ruin my life by a mere whatsapp emoji, a 21^st century goddess!

Im crazy, I know, but this is not a new thing, being irrational, unrealistic and unexpected has always been a big or even the main part of my persona. So, what is new? When will I return back to my bearable level of madness, when will I realize that you are a normal person, good or bad, great or mediocre, a person, just a person and not a goddess. You are not to be blamed, in fact you can leave this whole thing without any grain of guilt, it is a very personal conflict issue between me, myself and I. You highlighted some of my major defects, so maybe after a couple of years I will look back and thank you, and hopefully I will not curse you before reaching that level of maturity.

I am in the long and tiring process of getting back to my senses, at least my familiar level of irrationality. I have to unmake you the center of my life and must convince my subconscious that you are not welcomed in my dreams anymore. Remember when I used to say that I loved myself more in your presence, I seemed more handsome and funnier. No, I was not, maybe I was confused or deceived but I was not at ease, and being with you did not feel that safe and comfortable. I created the scenarios that would please any man, the serendipity, the bliss of love, the happiness of being together, and the profound meaning of every song. I created a beautiful romantic movie and enjoyed playing it endlessly, till you got bored, you panicked and decided to quit the whole surreal setting. The devil in me was ready to revenge, and it was me who thought of destroying. Let the cameras keep rolling, what can be better than a bitter melancholic romantic movie. Keep burning your days and nights in the temple of your wise and beautiful goddess. Blame yourself, and magnify your defects and praise her, keep praising her and enjoy your pain. Befriend your pain, unite with him, invite him to your thoughts, dreams and conversations, let this pain leave its marks on your tired features. Be gloomy, moody and edgy, aren’t you a lover who lost the love of his life? Depression suits you, right? Hate your life, belittle your own people, create detailed old scenarios when they neglected or ignored you. Remember to look up at your goddess, you love her, never forget this, love is your new identity now, you can not survive with this love, its memories and pain. Don’t lose this new identity, otherwise you will keep wading in your mundane life. Love made you a protagonist, at once you are the hero, what a change, what a luscious feeling. Would you ever return back to be one of the antagonists? Really, can you resist the glorious feeling of being finally up on the stage. Don’t your tears look majestic, your pain feels glorious and your whining sound poetic. Do you want to return back to the gossipy boring conversations, where your people complain about the traffic , prices and weather. The unadorned image of real life seems scary, right? You just need to Wake up, I cant tell you take your time, as I honestly believe that you wasted invaluable nights crying on an imaginary love story.  You really have to grow up.

 

 

A nightmare

 I had a nightmare yesterday. It was brief just as all nightmares, but it was intense, a sudden dose of pure fear. I was aware of everything, the shock, the fear and the pain. It was a kind of horror movie’s metamorphosis thing. Should not have to be that scary but it was, I was turning into a shapeless lump, every feature of me was changing quickly into other unfamiliar forms, as if I was melting, as if I was turning into another creature. The process was quick, scary and painful. I woke up and this is really an unusual things to happen based on my very few nightmares. I felt the heaviness of my body, my legs and abdomen, for a moment I thought that I was still in that wicked dream. After a few seconds which of course seemed much longer, I moved my neck in an attempt to recognize my surroundings and that was it. I slept, woke up, slept and woke up many times before deciding to leave the bed and face my real nightmare. It kept visiting me throughout the day. It was simply a glimpse of hell, and that made me realize that you were my glimpse of paradise. Our encounter was sudden, brief and profoundly enjoyable. I was absorbed in your love and forgot all my life. It was intense to the extent that it felt as my salvation or a final reward for passing a mediocre life. 

I have always thought of a better ending, a more merciful one, a gradual one. What would happen if we stayed together much longer then boredom intruded and we left with no pain and with no regrets. I know that everything happens for a reason but why am I left with that idealistic perception of you and of the whole story? The only thing that I wanted was to be with you till my last breath, to share my life with you in the most straightforward and direct way. This did not happen and I am left with a goddess- like version of you and an undeniable depression. 

A glimpse of paradise, yes that is how I see the time we had. What was my sin to be kicked out of that long awaited happy state? Time passes, I know, and sometimes I try to convince myself that although the ending was harsh yet there could have been worse scenarios. Now, all what I have to do is to keep moving, in a while neither nightmares nor happy moments will remind me of you. Or maybe I will just remember you and move on. 

Good morning,

I want to tell you that Im trying my best to be fine, Im trying to rebuild a life. Im trying to smile whenever you come across my mind, you see, Im smiling all day. No seriously, Im trying to move on, I will understand later, that is what I’m telling myself, lets move on and later we can pause and try to understand. The “what if”s are being silenced rudely, they will not help at all at this stage. I sleep, eat like a depressed elephant, if there is such a thing, and do some work. I watch the days passing, they pass quickly, and sometimes I catch myself stopping at specific dates for a while. Yes, I pause a lot on that day that we first met, somedays I call it my real birthday, my real-life day, and sometimes I call it my Ashoura, or at least my very own 9-11.

 

I am ok, I still listen to Fairouz, and I feel every sigh of all those in love. I wish people happiness, more than ever. Yesterday, I thought of those who chose to continue their lives in far away monasteries, I have always wondered about such drastic decision, how can someone leave everything, life with all its temptations, liveliness and familiar chaos to surrender to a life of nothingness, or to repeat one single day over and over and over till you leave this world. But yesterday I believed that I got the concept, it is the state of being satisfied by love, of being completed by love, of being lost in love. I will build my own monastery, I will hide in it, while moving on. I will go to work, attend meetings, respond to emails, I will call friends, I will go to dinners, I will pay bills and I will respond to funny comments on facebook, I will do everything while the real me will be in my own monastery of love.

In our every -now- and- then calls I tell you all the general things, for me they are super unimportant, but I don’t tell you that I miss you and that I miss telling you that I love you. I can’t tell you that I still believe that there is hope, and that time will be my ally at the end and we will be together. All of these words are hidden in my own monastery, hidden with thousands of your photos, I imagine you a dozen of times everyday, and I create photos of you. Maybe I will call you this afternoon to mention all the mundane details of my day, work, weather and migraine, you will speak with a minimum amount of enthusiasm about nothing in particular. I will make sure that we are both talking, the moments of silence scare me. I will make sure that we still have these phone calls every now and then. 

 

I'm a palace with 1001 rooms

 

I’m a palace with 1001 rooms, and as you left suddenly, I have to pass by every room to shut the windows, turn off the lights or simply seal the door. How long will it take me to put things to order? The silence became very noisy. Can you imagine that I wake up in the middle of night feeling the numerous voids in me. But voids drag you into them, sadness seeps into you, time passes by until you hear some sounds in one of the rooms. I leave the void and run towards that room, maybe there was a memory forgotten there, maybe a proper farewell was said there or even a tiny part of me has returned there. But as I reach that room it turns into another void, colorless and depressing, but I am dragged into it again. That is how my days are spent, being lost in my deserted palace, which is only haunted by me.

When we were together, I was tremendously happy, and it seems that happiness gives you supernatural powers, I was managing everything perfectly, the 1001 rooms were buzzing with scenes, melodies, laughter and future plans. The only fear I had back then was the passing of time. Now the only hope is have is the passing of time.

Maybe I can store all the words that I didn’t get the chance to say in some of these rooms. Let them fill some of my voids. I’m stranded in an unknown place, alone with a dozen of my fake personalities that can not function anymore. Imagine how many words are blocking me, how many insincere smiles are piled around, and how many unfinished hazy dreams that I try to understand. Let everything collect dust, maybe some of my voids will be filled.
Sleeping became my only salvation, you stopped appearing in my dreams. I sleep a lot for a day or two then sleeping runs away leaving me with migraines, mugs of cold coffee and numbness. I wake up to attend a meeting, I may fake a serious look, maybe succeed in looking interested in whatever is said, mission accomplished. I leave the meeting and return to the palace of 1001 rooms, maybe I find something that will force me to smile, cry or feel anything. I sleep for a couple of hours until I’m violently awakened by the nothingness that became my life

The story did not end

 

I’m a big liar. The story did not end. I still love you as profound as I did long ago. I’m just tired and lost. I thought that I can quit, simply quit and distract myself by the endless absurdities of life, but it wasn’t possible. I played all the possible mental games, I gave my love mediocre names, longing, habit energy, missing, … but no, what I feel is just pure love. 

During that short period when I thought that I was done, I experienced an eerie feeling of emptiness, it was both overwhelming and underwhelming. I was insomniac but I slept. I didn’t have any appetite but I ate. I wasn’t able to say a single word but I communicated with others. Isn’t strange how love shapes us? I can admit that I became more empathetic, more understanding and more accepting. I understand now why people commit suicide, why do they suddenly leave and why do they dreadfully age. Maybe they force themselves to end their love stories, they unplug without realizing that it’s not a love story anymore but a crucial part of their existence. Now I know the taboos, or that is what I assume. I will accommodate all the mood swings, I will bear the pain alone, I will be silent and move on. If this doesn’t work then I will scream, cry and complain. As you can see the plan is that there is no plan. I’m not sure of anything except that I love you, and I can’t let this love fade away. 

The other side of that last frame...

 

The other side of that last frame, the one with “The End” written on it, that is where I am standing exactly. Alone, silent, but not numb. I am ridiculously aware of all what happened, the whole story, how my heart and soul were recreated and resurrected several times. Like an ancient Egyptian curse, I survived our tragic saga. I passed through all the phases, and I hated myself several times, loved you again and again, and as I was starting to hate you, just as I was starting, I realized that I lost any feeling, I lost the ability to feel. You took a big chunk of my life and left, I know that you did not literally take it, it just followed you, it belonged to you, and could not stay prisoned in my absent presence.

I am not sending you any messages. I don’t really care about how you see the whole story. It became history, yes, I assure you, it became history. It did not work, and will never work. I can’t wait for years, I cant wait for things to change, I cant wait for you to miss me or consider things again. I lost my ability to love, whether this ability was a talent, an emotion, or even an organ, whatever it was, I lost it. I am still living, neither sad nor happy, but living. I am not looking backward nor forward; I am just living. No expectations of happiness I have to admit, but the good thing is that there will be no possibilities of pain. I have not got my life back, and I know that life will never be the same.

You were my baptism. But I lost myself in the process, physically I am still here, with the same naïve smile, and tired features, but something in me changed forever. I am not whining; I am just introducing my new persona. I have to befriend it, or at least I should not be shocked by its reactions, I mean my new reactions. I will take my time till everything settles properly. Now its time to clear the rubble, pant but keep moving, things will happen, am I not already relieved from the heavy burden of love?

What's more painful....

 

What’s more painful, waiting for a miracle that will never happen or accepting my fate. What’s the point of assessing every single word you say, analyzing every joke and calculating the time you take to answer my lame questions. What’s the point of the whole thing? I’m not sure who I became, too pretentious to be able to move on. I pretend 24/7 that everything is fine, that I can wait for a decade till we reunite, who promised me? 

You were harsh today. Your words, your tone and how quickly you replied, all this rage reached me when I was dying for a breeze of hope. I bored you, I know. I misunderstood your kindness and pretended that my plan is working. You are missing me, you are being nice again, that was what I thought. While you were simply being sympathetic and merciful. None of us is at ease, none of us is enjoying this phase, and none of us is willing to hurt the other, or that is what I hope. 

I desperately need to forget everything that happened between us, and roam foolishly around. It’s over, or it must be over. I have to return to the ruins of my life. Maybe gradually I’ll fit in it again, when you seem like a faint memory of a melancholic melody or an old romantic movie, maybe you will visit me as a half familiar half vague dream. I will always love you and I will always believe that we will never be together and I promise you that I will never surrender to love again.

let us....

 Let’s recreate our own world, the world of others will never suit us. Let’s cancel relations. Let’s cancel names. Let’s cancel time, yes please let’s cancel time. We don’t need to call our relation, lovers? According to whom? The others, those residing outside our world? Time has always been the enemy, the ticks of time means separation, one of us had to leave with a promise to meet soon. Soon was never soon enough. Don’t you know that I want to spend every single moment of my life with you. They see it as an obsession. Who? Those others, the ones who never understood love, or are not used to me as a lover. For them, I became weird, weirder than usual, I became …. I don’t really know and I don’t care how do they perceive me. Anyway we won’t have them in our world.

If only you give me a chance, one chance to revive our love story. One chance to enjoy the remaining time. Maybe I have a few years left, am I destined to waste them in such pain?

Apparently I’m not good at the game of ( imagination). Or your love is stronger than me, stronger but not that legendary love. That love of those who wish their lovers the best as they withdraw to wither away. Will time help me? Time, that wicked thing will it turn my love into a mature one, or will I just lose hope and treat our story as a reminder of eternal happiness, a preview of paradise. I can’t do anything but think of you, and ironically it seems the only logical thing to do. Where was all this love before meeting you? How did I live all these years without the bliss and pain of love. Anyway, all what I have to do now is to breathe, smile and imagine that we are together

The "Imagination" phase

 

I returned back to the “ imagination” phase. I imagine that we are sitting together now, spending our time together. Of course you noticed how I have been paranoid about the passing of time lately. Yes, I want to spend my time with you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, maybe this will compensate all the years that we wasted alone, and with the insignificant others. I have to concentrate to create the perfect composition, to think of what you will say, how our eyes will meet, who will smile first, no, who will laugh first and how will it be difficult for us to say ciao. I will call you on my way back, that hoe I imagine. I will recall all the minute details of the day, the gossip and the stupidity of work, Cairo traffic and July’s heat. You will comment on the songs I listen to, and our conversation will divert again and again, we will start by Fairouz as usual and this time, I imagine, we will talk about Oum kalthoum songs. “ when will we sing again” I will ask and you will laugh as usual. I’m torn between our memories and my imagination. All the circumstances tell me that we could not have escaped, I can admit it now. But why did not we have more time together? Why did not we stay together to share our pain? Do I need that master scene where the lovers weep together before farewelling each other. That very last scene before “The End”. The cruelest thing about movies is that they don’t show you what happens after “ The End”, and now my whole life became that unknown phase. I imagine us in a road trip, a long one, singing together, laughing on the inaccurate lyrics and the strange tones. Our stories will interweave as we speak, I will tell you all what happened before meeting you and you will do the same. Even in my imagination sessions I ignore talking about the future, may be we both know that all what we own is that current moment. Lost in a ridiculous maze of thoughts, even my sub conscious is trying to avoid what is unethical, what would have been mean or unfair. My subconscious has a lot of restrictions, is this ironic or what? Now I understand why you ran away, I’m tangled in endless do(s) and don’t(s), it became my own tiny cocoon. How can I even imagine with all these limitations? Maybe I should start imagining the new me, the capable, the decisive and the one who is ready to pay the price. Was your love a call to liberate me? Am I taking a lot of time to understand that message or am I just ignoring it. A mirage that I’m chasing foolishly and running away from everyone else… have you understood all this with your irritating wisdom? Why is it taking me that long to realize that everything is wrong with me? Some people are too hopeless to change, I know, maybe they will have a better chance in their other life, I am ready for the process. I want your love to kill me, only if I will be resurrected with your love again

I was stupid

 

I was stupid. I have been trying to be as genuine as possible in everything and with everyone and this is the ultimate stupidity. This is not how humans deal with their surroundings and I’m a human being, a stupid human being. So? Have you learned your lesson? Is it time to start over, a fresh start with a new and normal mindset.

What you called masks, turned to be normal daily make up that people put, even men put sunscreen, balm and oil to their skin. You were the only one walking naked with your honesty and sins. Believe me honesty is tiring and repelling. People can’t stand honesty, it baffles them, make them question their own integrity and you know what we are all sinners, aren’t we? I deserve a break, a break from your love, from my memories, from our songs and artistic movies, a break from my dreams. Let me enjoy the mundane details of life just like everyone, laugh with others about mediocre things, get excited about silly stuff and get angry about everything around me in a calculated manner like everyone else. Let me be a copy of others, those ordinary people who accept the unfair rules of life, who surrendered to its absurdity and live their days without real happiness or real sadness. Apparently they are wiser than me, apparently this is how human beings live. It’s strange that I’m saying this now, as this morning I was thinking that I loved you just to empathize with everyone instead of being isolated in my own cocoon. You left me to feed me an unbearable pain on daily basis, this pain will show me how everyone else around me is suffering. I’m trying to justify my defeat, my wound or even trying not to blame you. Ok, no time to talk about you or your love, I have to get ready for my new personality. The one who doesn’t share his emotions with anyone, the one who knows how to hide his feelings and most importantly the one who perfectly acts as a happy cheerful optimistic person. Let us enjoy the new man and wish the old one eternal happiness and peace in another world.

It is Sad

 

 The whole story is sad, and it doesn’t end, although I thought that it came to an end. I was mistaken, drained? Yes. Bitter? Yes. But, I still feel the same pain, what is different now is that I’m tortured by both rationally and irrationality. Neither my memories nor my hopes have any mercy.

You proceeded with your life, I know. Now our conversations are expected to be friendly, nice and superficial. I can’t turn you into a friend. I simply can’t. Although sometimes a faint voice tries to convince me that friendship lasts longer than love. You are stubborn, and you love to prove that you are right, so even if you miss me you will never admit it.

You are the one whom I want to spend my time with. Can you see how simple, straightforward and even childish this sentence is? But this is how I really feel. After wasting all these months, I still have the same urge to tell you that I love you and that it doesn’t seem logical that we are not together. I forgot whom I was before loving you, and I’m still trying to understand this version of myself , the version that was created by your love. I have to admit that I’m not in my best state right now, I feel hopeless and tired, but even in such a miserable condition I want to recall our love, I want to imagine what would it have felt I’d we were together now. Together planning things, postponing things and cursing things. My imagination doesn’t last that long, and after a few minutes I realize that we are not together and that maybe you see me now as a friend and nothing more. It is sad, so sad. 

The collapse

 

The autopilot state worked for longer than I thought. I was expecting it to last for a couple of months at last, but here I am hiding behind my numbness for more than a month and a half. I feel lonely, worthless and ridiculous. I became the void that consumed every feeling and I became the echoes of my whining and i became the boredom of those who used to listen to my story. I blamed you for everything. I demonized you, and piled up every negative trait on your beautiful character. But I was deceiving myself and nothing worked, neither blaming you nor hating you and not even hating myself. What did my words convey? Nothing…. Vulnerability? Maybe. Longing? Maybe. Despair? Maybe. My words have been weakened by all what I have been through, my endless journey of denial. Denying that I loved you, then denying that I betrayed that love, and then denying that nothing in my life was alright. I dealt with the whole story in a foolish way, and now after all these months, I feel disoriented, totally out of place. My whole surroundings seem familiar but they don’t feel as home, I started to see the defects of my friends and family. Their defects are magnifying everyday, and mine are too. The world has to come to an end, as that melancholic feeling is killing me. Maybe it’s not melancholic, it seems to be real and pure depression. The doctors called it stress and anxiety that were translated into colorful scans, thick reports and endless prescriptions. Could not tell any of them about that continuous bitterness in my tongue, or that haunting sensation that there is no hope whatsoever, but which doctor will understand this. The psychiatrist ordered me to write everything, every single thing, he repeated this while sneaking at his mobile to make sure that he will have a few minutes for a cigarette before meeting the next desperate soul. Writing? What else should I write? 

The funky modern day gurus of Instagram keep mentioning the balance between the “ body, mind and soul”, I believed them, only when I realized that I destroyed my “body, mind and soul”. The mood swings stopped occurring, as now I’m in a continuous state of pretending, pretending that I’m busy, that I’m tired, that I’m worried, that I have a migraine attack, that I overslept or I didn’t sleep at all. Lies are easily stitched to other lies and I’m lost in the doodles that I have naively created. Maybe there are some moments where I swing between empathy and indifference, for a few moments or hours I feel the pain of every human being before returning back to my dead status, where all the good things were history. In one of my sleepless nights I realized that my one-sided love story is not that different from ( the little mermaid), I didn’t give away my voice, but I gave away my soul, and my will and hope for happiness, and my appreciation of beauty. I’m a carcass moving around, sometimes slowly, sometimes noisy and always moving in an awkward way. I became ill tempered, pessimistic and dull. Will I meet you with a hysterical smile, or will I successfully hide my wounds? Will we ever meet again? I still dream of that moment when I scream at you saying that I love you and that you loved me. You loved me first and you loved me genuinely and you loved me deeply. I’ll keep screaming till you confess, till you nod, tell you repeat the yeses and maybe I’ll keep screaming till you cry. I stopped crying and it’s painful. I don’t know when exactly did I loose myself while loving you, how did I completely surrender to these vague tides of you, it’s not your fault anyway. I was bound to such ungraceful collapse, and your love just caressed me tenderly, yet this touch was enough for me to crumble. 

I will stop

 I will stop worshipping gods and goddesses, I’ll start worshipping man. The scared, weak, lost creatures is the one who needs to be worshipped. For his continuous attempts to survive in such a harsh endless maze. We were given life as a gift that what we were told. Love, laughter, happiness, success, lust and other spices were sprinkled her and there to hide the stink of our miserable existence. Why worship the creators, the givers, the mighty gods, do they really need our submission? It’s time to look after ourselves, our fellow prisoners in this ruthless world. I should be sending my love, admiration and gratitude to those who strive everyday, only to take care of those who love. The weak who keep smile in spite of all the pain, in spite  of all the unjust and in spite of all the despair. The Gods and Goddesses linger in the heavens above us, enjoying our misery, while creatively complicating our fates.  Yet, we, the perishables, struggle to save our beloved ones, we wake up every morning knowing that it could be our last day. Time does not befriend us, it cruelly chops our health, beauty and sanity. The days swirl around us, turning to weeks and years. We keep repeating our prayers with hearts too numb to beat. Our eyes are losing their sheen, our voices are losing their tones and our touches are losing their warmth, yet we don’t stop murmuring the verses, the same supplications repeated in various languages from different holy books. The frightened pray vigorously while the skeptics are too stressed, maybe too drained to think properly or raise the serious questions. It has always been about fear, and unfortunately it will always be. Tomorrow I’ll stop worshipping gods and goddesses, but tonight I have to pray. 

C’est fini

    

Our story came to an end. C’est fini.  I have to admit that you won. You defeated me, I am totally crushed, and that’s it. I really wish that we haven’t ever met. Here I am saying it, repeating it and shouting it again and again, I wish I have never loved you. 

We met today, after a long period of absence, longing and imbalance. I sat infront oh you speechless, not because of your charm, I wasn’t able to say anything, my words were choking me, I wasn’t even able to listen to what you were saying. I was swaying between what we used to say and what I wanted to say in a totally different scenario. I wasn’t there at all. Only the beeps of your mobile were dragging me back to the same room, who was calling? Another lover, I mean another “someone” or “ anyone” who can be turned into a “ potential lover”, or maybe this is just a friend who can help you waste time, another “clown”. Or maybe that was the one, the one whom you will love, the one who will caress your hair while you discuss your future plans together, the one who will kiss you tenderly before you leave, the one who will hug you while you watch a movie together. Will you answer that guy who inherited my dreams, I mean who earned my dream. Maybe I’m mistaken, maybe that lover did not appear yet, and I’m still needed as a time-waster. 

You were harsh today. There was a challenging tone resonating in the room, you pretended to be sarcastic, and that was never your way. I stared at you trying to find traces of your older version, but all what I could see were blurred mirages of the goddesses I made of you. You were too indifferent, maybe you were bored, were you keen to answer all these calls? Sitting with a corpse like me is a burden not everyone can bear. 

I should have loved myself more, maybe then I would not have been sitting infront of you begging for a few nice words, a smile or even a quick laugh. I am sure that I became drained, every cell of me is full of sadness, it reached my soul, my being. I’m defeated, and you know it. Remember when I told you long ago that I have that paranoia of not knowing whether I should leave or stay, am I still wanted? Am I boring? Today I kept lingering and spent more time than I should. I was testing myself, my ability to hold my words, to swallow my bitterness and keep the lame conversation going on. Weather? Who cares about an early summer or a dusty spring , who cares if there will be another day tomorrow or life will end today. I wanted to ask you if you have ever loved me, if I can put my head on your lap, if you can move your fingers along my head, and if we can both stay silent for a few minutes. If you I can listen to your breaths, and familiarize myself with their rhythm. There were long pauses between us today, as if we consumed all the small talk, will we meet again? You were nicer in my dreams, those long day dreams where we sing, gossip and laugh, no missed calls, no indifference and no challenging tones. Maybe you were in a bad mood today, maybe I remind you of what you try to forget or maybe there is nothing more to say. You politely canceled several possible plans, you made fun of them before expressing your shock and disbelief in the possibility of us doing these things together. Were you trying to state the obvious? When will we meet again? I asked with a trembling voice, but you listed your plans till the end of the month, and assured me that we will be in touch. I was too tired to be angry, I nodded and left you with a dead smile. 

Hello sadness

 I have to befriend sadness, there is no point of resisting it, it is stupid to try to push it away if my days and nights. I welcome you to my life, I don’t have a specific routine, but please try to be gentle in your visits, can you give me signs that you are approaching me. Sadness, as you know, I’m obliged to do things, to deal with people and finish work. So, please don’t slap me suddenly, don’t paralyze me amidst what I’m doing, I don’t claim that I’m doing anything important, but crying in a crowd can’t and wont be justified. Sadness, I’m approaching half a century and I must admit that we have never met before, some people envy me for this, anyway let’s have a friendly relationship. I surrendered to you, it took me a while, but it happened, I just need to be ready to receive you, host you and share my moments with you. I know that it’s a personal journey, one that I can’t get advices or recommendations from friends, I’m not haggling here, I told you I surrendered, but as we will be friends, please tell me what should I expect, what will change after embracing you and quitting the hopeless resistance. You know that I’m tired, you have been there from the start, you saw how I tried to conceal you with memories, fake laughs and neutral messages, but nothing worked, I must admit you are grander than any other feeling that surrounded me lately. I have mistaken you for despair, and sometimes for bitterness or other emotions, but you are here hugging me tightly and introducing yourself as true sadness, my life parter for my coming days. You are profound, strong and attentive, I thought that you would be slightly passive or absent minded but, no, you comment on every scene, melody or sigh, you hit me, just to live and relive the pain again and again. Should I be grateful? Anyway, as I told you there i am don’t with questions, and from now on I will follow your instructions, I will cry, shout, and collapse based on the strength of your hits, I’m not expecting you to be merciful, and I will stop questioning the time needed for a full transition. I will be a sad person, ok, I have met a few of them, my eyes will loose that sparkle when excited or happy, the wrinkles will deepen and draw a map of loss, and my tone will change too. Sadness, I’m ready, welcome to my life. 

Your version of the story

 

Tell me your version of the story. I have been talking for so long, I told you the story several times, from every angle, I analyzed although I’m not that kind of person, or I tried to analyze. I tried to understand, anyway, I have been trying to recall all our moments, stitch assumptions together and come up with excuses for what has happened, or what did not happen. Now I have to shut up, step back, sit and listen to your version. 

For god’s sake speak, tell me, even for the last time. Tell me what happened to you, how did you see the story, how did you see me from the beginning till the end, is there an end, I mean are we now post- the end? I told you I will shut up, but I just want to throw all my questions. You once told me that your silence is an answer, and I have to admit that it is a very cruel answer. When you are silent you give the impression that you really don’t care, or that I’m not that worthy of an answer or of a conversation. Conversations mean that at least two people are interacting with each other, I have been in my endless lonely long monologues and I miss listening to you. Done with your polite scented es about the weather, the prices and the news, I want one of these phone calls to be about our love. No, about your love, whether it was super short, an illusion or a miss calculated move. I will be listening, scream, curse and cry, I’ll listen to all of this. Accuse me of anything and I’ll be patient, I will not interrupt you, I will not provoke you, I will listen and will do my best to understand. Don’t try to justify things, feelings are not justifiable, be yourself or be the relaxed and more spontaneous version of yourself. Don’t worry about being blunt, this won’t hurt me, I think I’m already dead, the dead don’t feel hurt. 

Are you wondering why do I need to listen to you? I don’t have a logical answer, and darling, you adore logic, it’s not curiosity, it’s not self lashing, or May be it’s a mixture of both plus other bloody things that I don’t even know how to describe them. I am trying to forget you, I am really trying, but as I keep monitoring every feeling, I am aware that I’m fooling myself, there is no way to forget you. So, what I’m going through now is a new phase, a phase where I question every mood I pass through, and my moods are endless these days. I’m easily distracted, always lingering between memories, dreams and lies. Yes, I’m lying a lot these days, about silly things, is this a side effect? No one ever mentioned that those defeated in love start to lie, maybe I’m trying to create a different reality, a world of me own, where I give life to the incidents that I wanted. I never lied on you, I wish I did, I wish I was smarter and ….. I should stop talking now and listen to you, please tell me your version of the story. 

I betrayed my people

 

“I’m just a man who wanted to be loved” I said this while laughing with a stranger. How awkward? I let him step forward in the long cashier queue, so he smiled and said that I’m a good man. That was my answer! Was it a moment of enlightenment, did I really realize all of a sudden that the whole story was because of my need to be loved? But you initiated the whole thing, you, not me. I’m not crazy, I mean I wasn’t crazy at that time, now, I’m the king of all crazy men. I mean at that time I was aware that you were cool, elegant, lovely and that I’m simple out of your league. So I did not dream or even dare to dream of loving you. I looked up to you as millions of mobs treat celebrities. There were no hopes, hence no pain. The phone calls started to be more frequent and it was obvious that the interest was mutual and that it was growing. As inexperienced I am, I surrendered, I confessed and I drowned in your love. Was it my fault? Was it your fault? Did you even love me or was I just an amusing game for your ego? There is no point of finding an answer and I don’t know why I’m telling you this, maybe I’m trying to escape from a maze of bitterness. I don’t want to be bitter, pathetic or vulnerable are ok, if this is what people see, let them say so, but bitterness is different. I want to keep the beauty and bliss of our love, I want to enjoy every memory and surprisingly I want to look up to you as a celebrity, just the way I used to when I first met you. I know that one day I’ll prefer silence than this redundant chatter but until I reach that phase I want to tell you everything and I want you to live and relive all these contradicting emotions. Speaking of emotions, don’t you think that my love was too much to handle, as if it was out of this world, maybe you saw it as a burden or even a problem. You were suddenly slapped by my decades-old thirst for love, you were shocked and concerned while I was smiling naively and sending you Fairouz songs. While I was euphoric you were trying to understand where this love was dragging you. I ruined everything by my foolish attitude, and I can’t blame you for being rational amid all this madness. I broke the rules, all the rules, those of love and those of gender, I betrayed my people…. Hahaha, hence none of my friends is showing any empathy. I exposed our vulnerability, I said what we never allow ourselves to say, I lingered when we should have moved on and I keep whining when we were trained to deny. Maybe I’m now receiving the curses of all men, the machos and the losers, all those men who see me as a traitor to our attitudes in love and relationships. Anyway, as I have always told you, I did not plan anything from the start. 

You were not here

 

I had an event tonight, one of these presentations that I usually give but the auditorium was enormous. I was looking for you among the audience, just one of my games to pacify myself or to live in my “what if “ world. I sent you a message a couple of days ago about the event. You did not answer for ages, then you sent me “ Good Luck”, just these 8 letters. Sometimes I hate English, I see it as a cold language, incapable of conveying emotions or even indifferent to do so. Did you think a lot before sending your eloquent message? Did it need a lot of energy? Would adding a smiley face or any other emoji drain you? A few months ago I would have sent you endless selfies, I would have complained about the suit, and repeated that the presentation would have been more genuine if I was allowed to be in my boxers, T shirt and bare footed. I would have made sure that you are attending online, and as soon as I finish I would call you to get your feedback. After the event we would meet, eat gateaux while you analyze each and every sentence that I said, agree with some and disagree with more. Ah, I forgot, before the event you would have sent me several messages reminding me to speak slowly and not to rush. I’m gazing at the audience, imagining you sitting in the middle, smiling. Remember when I told you how your beautiful eyes sparkle when you smile. Remember how many times I told you that I love your smile. I keep going, I say what I have to say, I pause every now and then remembering your advices, I look at the same spot, where you would have been sitting, not in the very first rows and not in the very last ones, and not in the sides, you won’t leave until I’m done so you don’t need to sit by the aisles. The slides are flipping quickly, maybe I talked quickly, maybe I should slower down a bit. Unfortunately you won’t tell me your thoughts after the event. You are not here, I don’t know where are you now and it won’t be appropriate to ask. I’m done, maybe there will be a question or two, I wish you were here, I wish I was allowed to ask one question, just one question, I would have asked you, “what happened to our love”.

1001 whispers

 Every night before I sleep, I send you 1001 whispers. I imagine them flying to you, a trail of beautifully written “I love you” connecting us, cheerful melodies reminding you that I love you. Maybe they turn into a string of tiny bright stars. I follow them, imagine the distances separating us, and the journey my whispers have to take every night. I love you. That is all what I feel, an enormous feeling that makes both of us helpless. I can’t describe my love and you can’t understand it. It grew up till it became a burden, became bigger than us and our comprehension. Your love became a whole world, the world that I escape to it every night to whisper “ I love you” 1001 times before I fail to sleep. How would I sleep if I keep recalling our moments again and again. I smile, I sigh and I surrender to tears. I keep wishing you happiness as if I turned into a goddess of motherhood or as if I became an angel in another dimension. But of course I’m wishing you happiness, but I don’t delve into the details of your coming love story, I’m not a saint and I’m not that sane. 

My coming life

 

What would your love turn me in my coming life? May I choose? Can I be your guardian angel? Will this allow me to be with you 24/7, gaze at you, listen to your whispers and sighs, will I be able to read your mind? Can i? It would be just fair after all what I have been through. I wait for the night to fall, to withdraw from the chaos surrounding me, go to bed, wait for you in my dreams. I think about you and me, I change the scenarios, some nights I sleep, but most nights are sleepless. If only I can be with you, as a soul, as a feeling or even as a memory. Isn’t it that strange, that my love is dying for recognition? My love wants you to feel it, acknowledge it and keep it alive with you. Consider it an ancient relic, a magical  amulet or just a souvenir of some happy days. Can I vanish, all of my being, everything about me, except my love for you. I will willingly dive into the oceans of oblivion, I’ll disappear with all what I said, did or felt, except your love, I mean my love for you. 

Can I be a bunch of dreams in my coming life? To visit you every now and then, to comfort you in the lonely nights or to remind you of blurry yet beautiful memories. May be I can be melancholic melodies in my coming life? Something that make you smile, sigh, remember love while gazing at the trees. I remember how we both loved trees and how we would talk for hours about that shrub or that flower. May be I can be your favorite color, your favorite flower, a fresh breeze whenever it’s hot. Can I be anything that keeps you in a wonderful mood? If I can’t be any of these things, would not it be more merciful not have a coming life?

What is happening?

 I don’t understand what’s happening. This is not new, but for the last couple of days I feel dead, not numb, not indifferent but dead. Also, it is not that feeling when you step back and let the autopilot take the lead, not as if you are monitoring life floating around you, no, I feel dead. It is neither a bad nor a good feeling, but honestly it is strange. You think of all the consequences and at the same time you think of nothing at all. What if(s) seem silly, although they used to be the pillars of my sanity, now, I don’t understand how I feel separated from everything and everyone. I should claim my Oscar, I am amazed by my ability to act as if everything is ok, as if I’m still here, still engaging in the boredom of life, the mediocrity of work, finances, social media and the deterioration of our world. 

I didn’t surrender, I was persistent till the last breath, but I don’t know what happened, maybe I am just betraying myself? A new punishment, or another loss. Did the lover die? Am I to be left with all the other human lumps…. What a nightmare! May be he didn’t die, maybe he is dying, he consumed all his strength, hope and positivity, he wasted himself in love, or in his heroic attempts to understand the essence of it, and its secrets. Did he take all the memories with him? Am I left alone, totally alone? Will he visit me again! 

What is happening? Nobody went there, to the other bank of life, the other edge, the other shore, the other side, the other life, no body told us what’s there, what is waiting for us. Is it like this, is this death? Is it the state where the best in you and the best of you leave? So what remains of you is almost nothing, a soulless body, without the sufficient amount of memories and emotions to keep you going. Is that it? Am I supposed to keep going in this state? How and why? How can he leave, like this, without a proper goodbye? Again, without a proper goodbye. If these are my first official steps towards total madness, then I will not panic, I will be patient, and keep acting that everything is alright. I will finish sending these emails and then I will eat something. 

We found each other

 “We found each other” this is what I felt and believed in. Two souls bumped accidentally into each other to realize that being together was the only logical thing to happen. It happened quickly and subtly, so none of us could have recalled the beginning of our story, or this was what I thought. The happiness was extreme, unbelievable and unexpected, so no wonder that I lost my mind. I remember how I was surprised by my realization that the songs lyrics made sense, all of them, even the ones that felt too fluffy or too…. Whatever, this became history. Now I’m shattered alone, feeling the loss of what made me complete and happy. I used to feel charming, more handsome and funnier, can you imagine? Remember I told you, and you replied in an absent minded tone “ enjoy it while it lasts”. Of course I didn’t notice your seriousness or sense of melancholy, I kept smiling cheerfully or rather naively. 

“It would not have lasted forever …. “ I shushed my friend when he told me this, and I angrily said, “But it hasn’t been long enough”. I collapsed, why? Is it my vulnerability or is falling in love makes us even weaker? So, is it the urge to feel complete that forces us to seek love? Or the fear of such incompleteness that eats us up day after day. I feel a huge void in me, a dark, sad void that is getting bigger, it is dragging me away from everything familiar. Sometimes I feel that even my features had changed, my grimace became harsher, more wrinkles surrounded my eyes, I aged in a few months, weathered. I survived the lack of love throughout my whole life but I could not bear tasting it, then all of a sudden I’m deprived. 

Don’t you miss me? Ever? Didn’t you feel the same surreal joy, the sense of completeness or that strange feeling of returning home, finally returning home. They say heaven will be a state of mind, not a place, and I was in heaven with you, no wonder that I am losing my mind now. I am not Adam, and I wasn’t given his will and god doesn’t love me as he loves Adam. Without your love I feel banished, I feel worthless and I feel banished. There is no place that feels like home anymore. I am just a temporary thing floating in temporary spaces for temporary periods of time. Will I ever return back to your heaven? Weren’t believers promised that you will live eternally in paradise? I believed in love, and I deserve to live eternally in your love, or die eternally in it. 

Patience

 Patience, ah, the advice that people generously disperse it among each other. But what is patience? Is it waiting and waiting till you get what you wanted or reach where you desired? Or is it a kind of lame surrender, so it is simply waiting and waiting till your life comes to an end.  Is patience, a mixture of surrender, acceptance and oceans of oppressed sadness that fill you while you perform your mundane duties. Ok, let me listen to your advices, let me be patient, but about what? About grasping such precious life and losing it in no time? Or do they mean that you will return one day to me, and all what I have to do is to be patient! 

Everyday passes without you is a day lost from my life, is a missed opportunity of happiness, and I became very conscious about the passing of time. I became paranoid about how the months are gliding away and we are approaching summer. Summer again, with all its memories, hopes and plans. I was still thinking about how many years had been wasted before meeting each other. How would we be able to recall two whole lives, our stories, the people who passed by and left scars and lessons, and most importantly what we missed along the way. Again, I’m stranded between two scary cliffs, my life before meeting you and my life after you left me, and I’m toe tipping on a fine thread of memories. O, these memories are being turned into myths, I think that unconsciously I added a few phrases to what you said on that day, more smiles and many more glamorous laughs of yours. In these memories you were so caring and loving, maybe this wasn’t really the case, maybe you were nice, just nice, and nothing more. Patience they say, ok, if it is acceptance and surrender, then they are asking me to accept the loss and the awareness that there is such an enormous feeling that I will never feel again. Haven’t I always said that “ ignorance is a blessing”? If only I did not know that there was such a life-changing kind of love, I would have been much happier, unaware of what I am missing. But now, after spending sometime in the paradise of love, I don’t know how to return to my old life. Patience, they say, so I must be grateful for such a brief transcendence, as not everyone received such an honour, and what an honour, I was exceptionally lucky, but maybe such legendary encounters do not suit me. Maybe it would have been safer and calmer to continue wading in my calm, boring to death yet safe life. Patience, they say, till love or the loss of love complete their work, transform me completely to a human wreck, who feels the pain, empathizes with those who suffer and gets worried about those who are madly in love. Is this my destiny? To be elevated to a more noble man through a rough journey of pain, loss and grief? Am I kidding myself or is this just the effect of my antidepressant. Yes, I returned to those wicked pills, maybe they help, maybe they push the days with all the sadness that fill them, maybe they will guide me to that vague thing called patience. 

Help

 

Today I will change the whole scenario. Why not? Can’t I hallucinate for a day or a few hours? Can’t I play “let’s pretend”, an innocent game for someone my age. I need this breath of fresh air, this gentle tap just to keep going. The day will start by a phone call, “ I love you” this will be the first thing that you will say, even before the typical alo. I will smile and tell you that I love you more. ….. it is not working, daydreaming stopped working, maybe I have already abused it over the past few months. Our memories are so vivid, and I can still hear the echoes of your voice, “ I managed to overcome the feelings I had towards you”. O god, I really hate these words. It’s not about rejection, it is something else that I am trying to discover or understand. I must admit that I blame you, yes I blame you, at the beginning you dragged me to your love, I was not even thinking or daring to love you. Your attitude was encouraging, inviting and even seductive, so it felt like the normal and only logical thing to happen. I fell in love, I literally fell, and it’s an abyss. 

I don’t know from where am I getting such stubbornness, I have never been like this before. I have been known as a master of quitting, so why can’t I quit the whole story? Why am I still lingering lonely in that paradise that you left a long time ago. Am I enjoying the pain, or is it getting too familiar to be left, maybe I forgot how my life was, before loving you. 

The surreal connection that we had, made my entire life bare, barren and boring. Unfortunately you simply walked away, simply walked away, you left me there alone, shocked and unable to comprehend, I clung to your love tightly as if it was the only reality I had ever known. Sometimes I want to knock on your door, hug you tightly, stay silent and let the rivers of my tears flood us both. When you push me away, I will ask for empathy, I already know that you are merciless, but I will ask for compassion, sympathy or even help.  You have to guide me to leave the ruins of what used to be our place. I don’t care about how you see me, weak, pathetic, whatever you say won’t make a difference. I simply admit that i need your help to move on, I can’t manage this step alone. Would you please help me, and maybe then I won’t disturb you again.