Ana bahebek awi

“ Ana bahebek awi “

how many times did I write this phrase and delete it before sending. I need to tell you this, hundreds of times every day, I don’t even know why do I have such an urge. I’m grateful that I stop myself from sending these messages, there no need for more humiliation, wise advices or rude replies.  I love you and apparently it is starting to be a problem, a problem for me of course, as I don’t know how do you feel about the whole thing. 

Sometimes I say that all what I want is not to be forgotten, at least remember me as someone who loved you genuinely, remember me for all the good moments, they were few but genuine, remember me for the laughs, chats and most importantly remember me for how I explored love because of you. I should be grateful, I really experienced the most precious feelings with you, and I’m still in such a beautiful state, alone but there. Feeling a sheer sensation of love, something that pushes me to call you or at least send you a WhatsApp message confessing in our eloquent Egyptian dialect. Yes, sometimes “ I love you “ in English sounds like a commercial cliche, but in our Egyptian dialect, the “awi” sounds more genuine, without any exaggeration. You have always accused me of exaggerating and I used to smile and reply, “ I love exaggerations”. I do, but your love exceeded any exaggeration, it is becoming me, my whole being, my existence. Thus, sending a message or calling you won’t add anything to my current situation, it’s not a matter of confession as I have declared this a million times, may be it’s a kind of being or existing or just a reminder to self that I’m still alive. 

My love reaches you, I never doubted this. It’s a must, whether from a metaphysical point of you or a romantic one, but it must reach you. I’m sure that sometimes I come across your mind, may be you push these thoughts away, may be you analyze our short-lived love story and convince yourself that you took the right decision and May be sometimes you sigh, smile and relive one of our memories. 

Everything happens for a reason, as they say, and I’m starting to believe that the great love that I’m living is recreating me, and the process is painful, slow and scary. My priorities are being shuffled, my perceptions are changing and I’m becoming more empathetic, may be too empathetic. It’s a journey that I’m destined to take alone, accompanied by your love and a bunch of memories.