Diary 03 - Conclusion
Nearly 6 years after I wrote the first "page" of
her diary, I finally concluded it.
Below are links for the first 2 parts.
Diary 1
Diary 2
~*~
“Did you enjoy the wedding?”
His voice. Smooth, deep, beautiful.
“It was nice. She looked gorgeous. You are very lucky.”
There was a pause. I felt a knot in my stomach. I felt my chest tightening. I gripped my free hand in a fist and grit my teeth. I felt lightheaded. My eyes hurt. My stomach was burning. Where was the bathroom?
“You looked beautiful, too.”
Those words. He said them. He finally said them. After the diets, the gym membership, the hundreds spent on salons and makeup. I heard the words. I looked beautiful. With no warning, my stomach turned on me and I could not hold it in anymore.
“Are you all right?”
The back of my throat was burning. I wiped my mouth with the back of my free hand. My tears escaped. I felt them on my cheeks, my neck, my chest.
“Don’t be nervous. It isn’t as bad as you think.”
I lay back. My dress was on the floor. A beautiful dress. He was generous. Why was I doing this? This pain in my chest is becoming more intense by the minute. It feels so good. How is that possible? Why do I enjoy this pain?
“He is a good guy. I promise you he is. He will make you happy. You deserve to be happy.”
Then I couldn’t hold it anymore. The tears, the sobbing, and my trembling voice.
“If I deserve to be happy why didn’t you marry me? Why did you leave me? Why did you ask him to marry me? Why didn’t you just love me? Why didn’t you save me when I needed to be saved? I did everything you told me. I lost the weight, changed my hair, changed my style, changed myself. I became who you wanted me to be but you never said I was beautiful. Just like my mother. She only said I was beautiful when I was married. HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?”
I couldn’t stop my tears or my sobs. He was quiet. Then the line went dead.
He opened the door. He saw me crying and rushed to my side. He didn’t say a word. He held me in his arms. He was so generous. He was so kind. He was the perfect husband. But I didn’t love him. My heart doesn’t skip a beat when I see his face. Butterflies don’t flutter in my stomach when he kisses me. Goosebumps don’t form when he holds my hands. He just wasn’t him. He was married and so was I.
The next morning there was a text on my phone.
It would be unfair of me to lead you on. I did love you but you would have never loved the real me. You brought out the best of me, a side I did not know even existed. But that side would fade and go away one day. You would have hated me. You would have wanted out. I do not come with an emergency exit. Every door has more danger. I made you change yourself for me but you are just amazing the way you are. How could you be with someone who would want what he believes you should be and not you?
I turned to see my husband. He still had his arms around me. He loved me. He wanted me. He didn’t want to change me.
I deleted the text. I lay my head back facing him. I felt a tear trickle down on to the pillow. As if on cue, he opened his eyes. I smiled and he smiled back. A sincere smile. A smile for me. A smile full of love.
In the next room he was with a woman who would spend the rest of her life in a loop. In this room I was in a room with a man that would spend the rest of his life fixing whatever my past broke in me. I’m not sure who has it worse.
His Side of the Story
He loves her. He really loves her. And seeing her there on the floor on her knees, tears streaming down her face, broke his heart to pieces. Her body was shivering with every gasp of breath she took. Her lips were trembling trying to form words he couldn’t hear. Not now. Not like this. Not after what happened. She shook her head, slowly at first, and then faster and faster as he fell down to his knees next to her. She backed away and hugged the walls. His vision was blurry, but he could see her trembling. Slowly, she crept closer to him and with a trembling hand, reached out for his shoulder.
When did all this start? He loved her. With all his heart, he truly loved her. He still remembers the day they met. It was a rainy day, he had missed the bus and she stood there with her umbrella smiling at him. He was soaked from head to toe as he had forgotten his umbrella in the the rush of trying to catch the bus. She held up her umbrella, and smiling back, he stepped under and waited for the next bus to come.
They had exchanged numbers as she got out at her stop. He promised that he would call her, and he did just that the next day. They went out to lunch. The lunches became dinners. The dinners became spending the whole day together. Then one beautiful morning, he got down on one knee at her side of the bed and she said yes.
So what happened? What changed? They had never lived together, but they both agreed that it would be for the best to wait until marriage. She was beautiful, took great care of her figure, it wasn’t that. It definitely wasn’t that. He loved everything about her, even her clumsiness, the way she burnt everything she cooked, and even how she kept pronouncing certain words wrong.
Her legs. He could see them clearly now. He was holding them now. He lifted his head and met her eyes. Those beautiful dark eyes were open wide, frozen in horror. He just wanted to tell her that he loved her. He just wanted to hold her. He just wanted to tell her that everything was going to be ok. But she kicked him in the face, leapt to her feet, and ran towards the door.
He shook his head and by the time his vision returned to normal, she was nowhere in sight. He got to his feet and turned to see that the door was open and the room was empty. He called out her name a little louder than he would have wanted. He called out other names, too. He could hear a whimper from behind the closet door. She was there, hugging her knees to her chest, her whole body shaking uncontrollably. Next to her was his favorite blue shirt. There was a white stain in the middle.
Now he remembered. He was getting dressed in the morning to go to work. He wanted to wear his favorite blue shirt that he had asked her to wash the day before. She was never really good at domestic work. It didn’t bother him at all, but when she handed him the shirt with a trembling hand, he forgot why he had married her in the first place. It was late in the afternoon now. He had called in sick from work. He just
had to teach her how to wash clothes right.
She screamed words at him; pleas that he couldn’t hear anymore. He took hold of her arm and yanked her out of the closet. She hit the wall head first and fell unconscious on the floor. He could see clearly now. Her closed eyes were black, her lips were cut and bleeding, her legs and arms were red and purple, and there was blood coming out of her head. He fell to his knees as tears blurred his vision. Gently, he lifted her from the floor and ran towards the door grabbing his car keys. Just like the day they met, he forgot his umbrella and it was raining very hard.
“What happened?” Asked the doctor. He couldn’t answer. He kept looking past the doctor’s shoulder to see where they were taking her. Her hair lay around her, the blue of the covers contrasted her red and purple skin perfectly. “What happened?” Repeated the doctor.
“She fell down the stairs.”
(Untitled)
“I think he hates me.”
He inserted a coin in the jukebox and punched in his favorite song, then he went back behind the counter and poured her favorite drink for her.
“No, I just want a diet coke this time.”
Shrugging, he took a sip from the drink he had just poured and gave her what she ordered. She stared at her drink, held the glass in her hand for a while, then raised the glass to her lips.
“So why do you think he hates you?”
She drank some more of her diet coke then set her glass down. She shook her head a few times then she looked up at him.
“Did you spike my drink? I specifically told you I want a diet coke, meaning NO ALCOHOL!”
He grinned at her and took away her glass. He poured her a another diet coke and passed it over to her. She accepted it and took a careful sip from it. He laughed.
“You don’t trust me?”
She drank some more.
“It’s not a matter of trust … Anyways, yeah, he hates me.”
A middle aged man came and sat next to her.
“I need something hard today.”
“Wife?”
“I just lost my job.”
She turned towards the man. His brow was wrinkled and his eyes had softened. His shouldered were hunched down, probably from dragging his feet all the way to the bar, and his clothes were a total mess. He gulped down his drink and ordered another. The bartender turned his attention back to her.
“So why does he hate you?”
She was still staring at the man who lost his job. She thought of his wife and family. How could he face them? How could he tell them about what had happened?
“That man just lost his job … “
“This is a bar. People come here to drink their sorrows away.”
“Yeah, but his sorrow is different. He lost his job.”
He let out a sigh and poured the man another drink upon his request then went back to her.
“People lose their jobs every day. He’ll be able to pick it up in no time.”
The ice in her drink was melting and her eyes were still glued to the man.
“You just said ‘Wife’ when he said he wanted a strong drink meaning he also has problems with his wife. He won’t pick it up in no time. How is he going to tell her? What if she leaves him afterwards? How will he go on?”
The bartender took a sip from his own drink and rolled his eyes. A drunkard at the back changed the song in the jukebox and now it was playing “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”.
“Why are you so concerned about him? You have your own problems?”
“Hm?” Her head popped up all of a sudden and she looked at him, “Problems? I’m drinking a diet coke. Seriously … “
He sighed and finished his drink.
“I can never get you … “
“Hey Mister!”
The man turned towards her, eyes slowly settling back on earth after a long hovering over a far off land. She scooted closer to him.
“I’m sorry about your job. It must be really hard.”
He smiled weakly at her and mumbled a thank you. He went back to his drink and didn’t turn towards her.
“I know it’s none of my business, but the bartender kind of gave it a way. You have problems with your wife?”
He didn’t react to her.
“I know you probably get this a lot and you really hate hearing it from people, but I know how it feels to have problems with the one person you love the most.”
To her surprise, he smiled and started to shake his head. Confused, she tilted her head to the side and raised her eye brow. He started to talk.
“She is not the one person I love the most. She is an obnoxious flesh-eating monster disguised as a beautiful witty woman.”
He ordered another drink and turned towards her.
“Do you know how I met her? Oh, you should see her telling the story. She says it with so much emotion and affection, as if we’re madly in love with each other even after 15 years of marriage. That the spark is still there and we “make love” every night and that our life is just PERFECT!”
His drink arrived and he gulped it down all at once. She didn’t say anything. She only stared wide eyed at the glass he put down and listened to him talk.
“It was a chilly October night. I was walking back from the library after a night of endless studying. She was out with her girlfriends for a study break walk. We passed each other. She felt sorry for me because I was alone, so she left her girlfriends and came to see how I was doing.”
He cleared his throat and then started to speak in an annoyingly high-pitched voice and a fake high class accent.
“’I asked him if he wanted some company and of course he replied, ‘No thanks, you go enjoy your night.’ But how can I let a looker like him go away that easily? Yes, back in the days, he was very handsome. All right, so anyway, I ask him if he had had anything to eat, and of course, he said no again. So I invited him to eat at this place I know that opens around the clock. We talked a lot that night. Oh, he was so adorable! Afterwards I remember, he asked me out. I said no of course. I mean, I just felt sorry for him being alone but I wasn’t going to date him! But he insisted so I decided to give him a chance and … well, let’s just say he captured my heart. We dated for 2 years in college. He proposed to me right before graduation and got married right after. He couldn’t wait to make me his.’”
He turned towards the bartender who was about to refill his cup. He shook his head and held up his hand.
“No, can I just have some water?”
He turned back towards her.
“Afterwards she would smile at me, touch my chest, and give me a ‘gentle’ kiss. She’d then flutter those fake lashes of hers, flash me a sickly sweet smile, and walk away.”
She smiled at him.
“That is kind of cute.”
He burst into hysterical laughter which sent her back a seat.
“I’m sorry. It’s just funny. Everyone LOVES this version of the story. That’s what she told her parents. She didn’t want to tell them what really happened. Want to know what really happened? We were both at a party. She was dressed as a slut, I was stoned. We didn’t know each other. I ended up doing her in the corner and she got pregnant. We were both trashed, I have no idea how she remembered that I was the guy that humped her that day.”
He drank some of his water. She didn’t know what to say, where to look, or whether to just go back to talking about her problems to the bartender. The man, on the other hand, had other plans for her. He wasn’t done.
“Yeah, she got pregnant. She told me after a month. You know what else she said? ‘I think you’re the father.’ The key word here babe is: think. She thought I was the father. She probably slept with half the guys that night and she only remembered me because she wasn’t that trashed when we met. That was during our senior year. After graduation, we got married. After we had our son, I felt that I could really love her. Until we tried to make another child. We went to a fertility doctor. Yes, I was sterile. I wasn’t the father of her child. We tried to act like it didn’t matter, that it didn’t mean a thing, but then I learned she was pregnant. Not only were we not having sex after we got the news, but I was also incapable of impregnating her. She was cheating on me. The problems I have with my wife girly, is that she is cheating on me constantly with other men. Is that the kind of problem you’re having with your boyfriend?”
She sat there unable to utter a word. The bartender was shaking his head and serving another customer who lost his money in the stock market. She opened her mouth to say something, then quickly changed her mind and ordered her usual drink. The bartender laughed and mouthed her a “You shouldn’t have tried talking to him…”. He gave her the drink she ordered. She was just about to take a sip when he started talking again.
“Yeah, I lost my job. I got fired. I actually wanted to get fired. I hate that job. My boss is so demeaning. He constantly reminds me that I am going to rot in this little town for the rest of my life while all my other colleagues go out to the city and become successful business men. He reminds me that he took me off the streets when he learned that I was a father of a bastard child with a degree of “How to make crap?”. That I am a talentless waste who could not even satisfy his own wife. Yes, everyone knows that my wife is a whore. If I could afford a lawyer, I would have divorced her. You don’t happen to be a lawyer, now do you?”
She shook her head slowly and carefully then turned her attention back to her drink. The man got up from his seat and with much difficulty and made his way to the jukebox. He inserted a coin and played a song she knew very well. She turned towards him despite the bartender’s attempts to stop her. She stayed in her seat and the bartender let out a long sigh.
“He’s quite the character.”
“I know. He used to be a regular when he first learned his wife cheated on him. He hasn’t been here for 5 years though. I guess he stopped caring so much about that slut wife of his. She’s really hot you know. If I didn’t respect that guy over there, I would’ve slept with her. She seduced me you know. She always wore really short dresses and the highest heels you’ll ever find in a store. “
The man, after singing along with the song he chose, turned his attention to the girl.
“Hey girly! What’s your boyfriend’s problem?”
Suddenly, her heart sunk in her chest and her eyes lost their shine.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my ‘best friend.’ He doesn’t know I love him, but I ruined everything between him and this girl he liked.”
He stumbled back to his seat.
“What did you do?”
“Well … “ She said and shrugged her shoulders. “I sort of told her he was my boyfriend. He thought I told her that because I was ‘afraid that he would get hurt’. All his previous girlfriends were sluts who only went for him for his money. Whenever things get serious, they dump him and he comes crying to me. I did tell her that he was my boyfriend partially because of that, but also because this one really did like him for who he really was and I didn’t want him to commit to someone that wasn’t me.”
“Have you tried telling him you love him?”
She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.
“Many times. Every time he says, ‘I love you, too. You’re the best friend a guy could ever have.’ Do you know how much that hurts? God …”
“He’s a ass. You’re one foxy lady. You shouldn’t be hanging onto a guy like that. Go out. Live life. I mean, at least you’re not married to a cheating whore.”
He ordered drinks for both of them.
“You know what we should do girly? We should go out and show them that we don’t care about them. If they don’t want us, then we don’t want them either! What do you say?”
She looked to the bartender for help but he shrugged his shoulders.
“I guess. What can we do though?”
He grinned at her then reached into his pocket and pulled out two hundred dollar bills and put it on the counter. He got out of his seat and extended his arm towards her.
“Let’s go out for a walk. The fresh cold air will do us good.”
They put on their coats and headed for the door. The bartender looked at the hundred dollar bills on his counter, shrugged not questioning why a man with no job was giving away this much money, then went back to serving his usual customers.
They walked towards the docks. It was a quiet night. It was late of course, way past midnight. The water was still and there wasn’t a soul out that night. They continued to talk about how shitty their lives were until all of a sudden, without warning, she kissed him. She quickly pulled away after she realized what she had done.
“I’m sorry. So so sorry. I didn’t mean to-“
To her surprise, he held the collar of her coat with his hands and pulled her closer to him for a kiss. After recovering from the shock, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back while he moved his hands down to her chest. Realizing what was about to happen, she broke the kiss and whispered, “I live right around the corner.”
He threw away her scarf and coat and took of his jacket. He pinned her to the wall and kissed her with all the passion he could muster. The anger of how his life got ruined after marrying a woman he knew nothing about, a lying bitch, a cheating whore, it all surfaced now and burst into that kiss. He was touching her body, exploring every inch. His hands slowly moved down from her waist to her hips and slid underneath her dress. She broke the kiss to let out a gasp. She let out another gasp when he touched her again. It had been a long time since she had been with a man.
He withdrew his hands from underneath her dress and started to unbuckle his belt.
“The bedroom is right over there.”
He shook his head, “I can’t wait.”
He took of his pants and slid his hands underneath her dress. He kissed her again and then broke away and took a step back. Slowly, as if on cue, she lifted the dress over her head and took it off. He took of his shirt and then stared at her body. He pushed her against the wall and stared straight into her eyes. She stared back. Her heart was beating fast in her chest. She removed the last clothing garment she had on and so did he. Then he took her into his arms, lifted her up, and lowered her down onto him.
“Wait! Don’t you have a condom?”
He bit her neck which made her gasp.
“Didn’t you hear anything I told you tonight? My little boys don’t work!”
He said that and thrust himself into her harder. She let a little scream and dug her nails into his back. He moved fast within her, hard. When he was just about to come, he felt her reach her pinnacle. She let a little shriek. At that instance, the door to her apartment opened and in stepped her ‘best friend’.
He stared at them with horror. The man let her down.
“I can explain.”
There was a look in his eye. She couldn’t believe she never noticed that look before. He left and she dressed quickly to follow him. She tried to explain to him what had happened, but he never stopped to listen to her. He kept on walking away as she hysterically tried to reason with him.
The man killed himself that night. After she left, he didn’t bother to dress himself. He walked out the door, and around the corner to the docks. Then he jumped into the waters. A few minutes later he drowned. He was found an hour later floating by the girl and her “best friend”.
The news spread fast. His boss learned of the incident that night. The police called him because, for some odd reason, the man listed his boss as his emergency contact. The phone fell from his hands and before he knew it, he was in the kitchen with the sharpest knife he could find. His guilt overwhelmed him and he took his own life that night.
The girl gave up on her guy after she found the man whom she let go with floating in the waters. She went back to the bar and sat on the stool. It was almost 4 in the morning and her eyes were bloodshot and dark.
“I think he hates me … “
(This is why I'm passionate again)
“Do you have a lighter?”
She pulled out a cigarette from a packet in her purse and placed it between her lips. He sat next to her drinking a bottle of Mountain Dew and staring off into space. He set the bottle on the table, reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches.
“I stole these from the restaurant we were at last night.”
She grinned at him. He held her gaze for a while, devouring it and breathing it in, then he diverted his eyes as she lit her cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke in the air above them.
“I never knew why I liked coming to this place with you.”
He was still staring into the empty void of nothingness when she started to speak again. He could see from the way the smoke dispersed in the air that she was looking the other way herself.
“It makes me feel. Yes, that’s it. It makes me feel.”
He turned towards her. She sat leaning over her crossed legs and resting her elbow on her knee, the cigarette dangling between her fingers and burning away. She never smoked a whole cigarette.
“This place is magical. It envelopes all of my senses. I can see everything when I’m here, hear everything, taste and smell and touch everything. Feel everything … I don’t feel that way anywhere else.”
She threw the cigarette into a puddle of water and sat straight up. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent around her.
“This place makes me feel cold and warm at the same time. It makes me feel like its neither day nor night, that time is infinite and I can stay here forever and I’ll be happy and peaceful and serene … without a worry in the world.”
She turned to face him. There was a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. It sent a warm feeling down his stomach to see her so passionate this way and he smiled back at her. The smile he gave her made her cheeks turn pink and she looked away.
“I like this place. What do you say we stay a little longer?”
He moved in next to her on the bench and put an arm around her shoulders. Upon contact with him, her whole body shivered. She slowly lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“It makes me feel beautiful. Let’s not leave.”
He planted a small kiss on her forehead and then held her in his arms for the remainder of their small meeting. She did not speak nor did he. His hand slowly traced her arms, and with every inch he covered, her body would shudder, and when he held her hand when he reached it, her face burned up and he could feel it.
“It makes you wonder … why don’t they make more places like these in the world? Why can’t they exist at all times for us? Then everyone can live in love and harmony and peace … and we wouldn’t have to worry about war and hate anymore.”
She freed her hand from his and used it to remov his arm from around her shoulders. She sat facing him now with a stern look on her face. He was getting concerned at this point. Whenever she gave him that face, an unpredictable question would follow. She didn’t say anything though, she only stared deep into his eyes as if searching for the answer to a question she dared not utter. Then without any warnings, she turned her head from him and looked away. He was about to hold her again when she started to speak.
“I’m going to say that this is my escape. This here, this spot, this is my sanctuary. This is my haven, my secret place, my home.”
He smiled gently at her.
“You do know we’re sitting on a bench randomly placed in an abandoned parking lot, right?”
She laughed and turned to look at him.
“Of course I know silly! That wasn’t the place I was talking about.”
She kicked off her heels and crawled in to sit in his lap. She put her arms around his neck and he wrapped his around her waist and pulled her closer. She was so close he could almost feel her heart throbbing in her chest.
“You’re beautiful.”
If it weren’t for the support of his arms, she would have fallen right on top of him. He loved the power he had over her.
“Why did you have to go and ruin my moment?”
He brought her even closer and gently kissed her lips.
“I’m sorry, what were you going to say?”
“I was saying …” She started, her voice shaking a little, “This dump was not what I meant by my special place.”
“You’re holding your breath.”
“Shut up. I’m trying to focus here.”
She never talked this much before. Not with this much passion at least. Whenever they were together, it was him who was passionate, not she. All she did was smoke, listen to him, and blush every now and then whenever he touched her. He stared into her eyes, reassuring her that she can confide in him.
“The place I was talking about was a metaphor you idiot; a metaphor for any place where you are by my side.”
Her words made his heart skip a beat, his arms fall from her waist, and for his eyes to widen as he stared deep into her eyes. Finally, his cheeks turned red. Her smile widened.
“You are so cute.”
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her waist again and pulled her in. She tried to say something, but he told her to shut up, then he kissed her with as much passion as he could muster. It was no surprise that they lived as happily as anyone could live happily for the remainder of their lives together in harmony, love, and passion.
Addiction
It was a long, rough day. He came back home worn out and fatigued yearning for the comfort of his bed and the warmth of his sheets. He wanted nothing more then to get under the covers and snooze until the sun shone up in the sky. As he entered his room, an alien, no, familiar scent engulfed his sense of smell. He breathed in what he could of it in hope of evoking a memory that might be engraved in his mind but to no avail. Nothing came up.
After shutting the door, he sat on his bed and took off his shoes and socks. He lay back and smiled as the events of the day unfolded right before his eyes like a filmstrip he had worked so hard to make. A smile spread across his face and he sat up again. He looked to his right, to the little note on the bed-stand and the dried up rose he wished he could throw away. The smile faded away and he stood up.
As he was lifting off his shirt, a pair of cold, soft hands covered his eyes. “Shhhhhhh .. Don’t turn around.” It was a feminine voice, a familiar voice he had heard many times before. His heart skipped a beat and sweat trailed down his face. He opened his mouth to speak but his throat dried up.
He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders turning him around. He opened his eyes and he was staring deep into
her eyes. She gently placed her hand on his neck and pushed his head towards hers. Their lips touched for a moment then parted. He felt lightheaded and high. He couldn’t think or comprehend what was going on around him. Was this truly her in his room?
“Did you know it only takes small dose of a drug to get you addicted?” He wanted to speak, but she silenced him with another kiss. Her free hand gently traced his arm with the tips of her fingers. Her cold touch sent shivers down his spine. She pushed harder and kissed him more deeply, with more hunger. She griped his wrist, then let go and pulled away.
He looked at her. She wore a black sweater on black jeans. She wore the pair of red tennis shoes he had bought her for her birthday. Her hood covered most of her hair and the rest came out from the sides. Before he could devour anymore of her appearance, she pushed him down the bed and pinned him down with her knee. She took his shirt off and kissed him again, fiercer than before.
His hands uncovered her head. He ran his fingers through her hair. She parted his legs with hers and pushed up against his groin with her knee. She broke the kiss and stared deeply into his eyes. He tried to avoid her gaze, to control his breathing and speeding heart, but he couldn’t hide anything from her
then and he certainly couldn’t now.
She leaned down and nibbled his earlobe. “Usually, when one recovers from an addiction, once presented with said addiction, one rejects it.” She moved down towards his neck and bit him. He gritted his teeth and tried to concentrate on the painful side of the process. He failed. “You haven’t recovered.”
She guided his hands towards her chest. “Can you feel my heart beating?” He only stared at her. He didn’t say a word. She moved his hands towards his chest. “Now compare it to how your heart is beating.” Her lips slowly curled up into a grin.
The pressure of her knee made it hard for him to breathe. He sweated more and she could see that. He saw that it was enjoyable for her. She liked seeing him this way. She got up and turned around. He sat up and rested his weight on his elbows. She turned her head around to see if he was staring. He was. She looked ahead again and slowly took of her sweater and threw it on the ground. She turned back to him. She pinned him on the bed, kissed him, and allowed him to touch her wherever he wished to touch. Then he took her.
They broke away from each other. He tried to catch his breath and she hers. He stared at the ceiling and no thought came to his mind. His heart beat went steady and he could breathe normally again. “After a dose of the drug a recovering addict was hooked on, said addict goes back to his old habits.” He turned to her. She was staring at the ceiling. She got up and searched for her clothes. “Then the addict realizes that his problem is much more serious than he thought it was.” She got dressed then went to his side. She stroked his hair and smiled at him. “You do realize that this means I win.” He closed his eyes and cursed himself.
When he opened them again she was no where in sight. He was fully dressed and the bed was untouched. There was no trace of a break in or a break out. He looked out in the hallway. Nothing. Out the window. Nothing. He ran down and out the door to the streets. Nothing. His head started to spin and his mind stopped finding logic in things. He went back in to his room and lay on his bed. He turned to his bed-stand. Only his alarm clock, mobile, wallet, and lamp were there. He closed his eyes and assured himself that what had happened was nothing but a dream. Then he opened his eyes again and shot up out of his bed.
The flower and the note were gone.
He sat back down on his bed and shook his head.
She won. I’m still a junkie…
Numb
She laid her head back and closed her eyes. She waited until she felt the eternal calm fall upon her. She breathed in whatever she could of the air left around her. Her favorite song played in the background. Water was dripping from her ceiling and landing on her head. The drops were cold and made her flinch with every hit.
She turned her body around and fell on her back. She placed her arms at her sides and waited. The droplets fell exactly in the middle of her stomach forming a puddle of ambiguity. The words of the singer filled her ears, engulfed her soul. There were no tears. There were never tears.
There was a burning sensation in her stomach. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. The pain in her head grew more intensely as the clock ticked away. She wanted to cry, but the tears refused to be free.
Her whole life started to flash in front of her.
A smile, a laugh, a warm embrace.
The warmth of another’s body, soul.
A word, a song, a life.
A promise.
A look, a frown, a mistake.
Anger, frustration, depression.
Deception.
She felt light-headed. The pain ceased and the burning halted. She released and lost herself in the new feeling of weightlessness.
She lost feeling in her toes. She smiled.
She lost the sense of living. She laughed.
Her feet started to become numb.
She couldn’t move her arms.
Her neck failed her.
Her eyelids became too heavy to lift.
A smile, a laugh, a warm embrace.There was an image in her head. It was crystal clear for the first time in her life. She could see life for what it really was.
A look, a frown, a mistake.Her heart rate slowed down.
It stopped.
A bottle of the doctor’s best prescribed pills lay next to her.
A letter of words spoken too much lay beside her …
Without you, life is meaningless.In her heart, a name was engraved.
You.Parting is such sweet sorrow …
Infatuation
I sat next to him. Was it meant to be or was it a coincidence that our last names started with the same letter? That both my name and his had the same meaning? That both our mothers gave birth to us on the same day? Was I insane for bringing these thoughts to my mind?
I sat next to him and he smiled at me. Was it a sin that I loved the way his lips curled up to form that smile? Was it a sin that I adored how his eyes twinkled and shone with sincerity and pureness?
I sat next to him and my heart began to pound, my head began to throb, and every blood vessel in my body was screaming baffling things my mind couldn’t grasp. Was it wrong to even think of him the way I did at this moment, the moments before, and the moments that will soon become?
I sat next to him and memories cluttered my head. I remembered
who he was. I remembered the way he would look into my eyes and reassure me that everything will turn out to be just fine. I remembered how he would greet me every time I see him with a hug and the same phrase conflated with a wink, “Lookin’ good hot stuff!” I knew it was a joke, but God did I wish he meant it.
I sat next to him and I forgot where we were. We could have been in the presence of the most successful of the richest and I would have thought of the place as anonymous. All I saw was his face. All I heard was his voice. All I acknowledged was his presence, and I was sitting right next to him.
I sat next to him and he made me laugh. His jokes would tickle the butterflies in my stomach and what lay beneath. His remarks comforted my sinful heart and calmed my throbbing nerves. The looks he gave me and the smirk he sent my way reminded me of how much of a sadist this life we live in was. Still, I did not care. I sat next to him, and that was all that mattered.
I sat next to him and I was overwhelmed with the inexplicable feeling that I have longed for so long to decipher. It was overpowering and frustrating, so abstract and nerve-wrecking that I could not focus my eyes, my mind, or myself at anything. It caused my stomach to turn, my head to lighten, and my lungs to stop functioning. I was sitting next to him. I really was.
I sat next to him and I started to wish for what I shouldn’t even be thinking about. I wished, and I wished, and I continued to wish. I wished so hard that I could have sworn he knew what I was wishing for. I wished and I asked God to forgive me for what I had wished for. At the same time, I prayed that my wish would be granted for me.
I sat next to him and I knew that I had to leave. I knew that it would not serve me well to be seated next to him. I knew what it would do to me, what it did and what it will continue to do. I knew because of the warmth I felt when he shook my hands or pulled me close for a hug. I knew because of the way he grinned at me and patted my back. I knew because I simply
knew.
I sat next to him, but I decided to leave. I could not stand being in denial for any longer. As I left he looked into my eyes and I diverted my gaze. I wished again, but I knew God would never grant me this wish. I wished again, and I prayed I never had to wish for it again. I wished again, and one more time and he would understand. I wished one last time and I left.
My mind, my heart, and my soul were still sitting next to him. God, how I wished for my wish to have come true so I wouldn’t had to leave. Then I would still be sitting next to him, devouring every moment spent by his side. But alas, it would be nothing but a sin. For what I had experienced with him, I did not experience with anyone before. And now he knew …
As I neared the end I questioned my existence. I questioned my life. I questioned myself. For the first time in my short span in this world, I realized what I should have realized long before this last day.
I was never supposed to be born a man.
Theory of Love
She stood aloof staring straight into infinity. Her hands were freezing as was the tip of her nose. The wind blew at her scarf, but she made no attempt to put it back in place. It was a miracle she still had the energy to breathe. Her mind was wandering in a different realm, an alternative world where happiness wasn’t an abstract concept and sorrow ceased to exist.
At the back of her head, a film was playing. There were no images, no moving pictures. There were only emotions, unspoken and invisible feelings. That was her alternative reality; a world where her heart smiled and her soul was alive. In the solitary state she was in, away from that realm, her heart hardly produced any vital signs. It beat, but it was void of any emotion. In the reality she created in her head, her heart experienced all emotions.
The clock struck the hour. The world began to live while she stood detached from reality. A rush of life passed by her and she could almost feel her heart beat. Her chest produced a slight movement indicating the intake of a breath, a clue that she was not dead.
A smile was beginning to form in her mind. An image of warmth and love was overwhelming the screen of her film. Words of passion were engulfing her sense of hearing. The feeling became so overpowering, so intense, that her eyes flickered until finally, they shot open.
The world stopped at that instant. Life appeared like a still painting to her. She did not look at the whole picture, but instead, she noticed the details. She grasped the fine lines that accentuate the larger image. She devoured the delicate textures of the painting, one by one, and her heart livened more.
She felt warmth in her heart as a brush of life touched her hand. She was able to sense and feel as if she were back in the real world again. The brush of life lingered around here and she tried to focus on it. She wanted to grasp that as well, but she could only grasp small things, details and fine textures, she faced difficulties decoding large images.
The brush of life became more intense. The feeling was overpowering her. She felt passion, strength,
love. Whatever it was, it provided her lungs with life, her brain, her heart, her ears, her tongue, her nose, her skin, and finally, her eyes. She could focus. She could see as well as feel. The brush of life was no longer a
brush, it was real, it was solid, it was
divine.
She breathed it in, filled her body with this new feeling of absolute euphoria. Not only did her lips curl up forming a smile, not only did her heart beat to a symphony of laughter, but her soul was alive again.
She was alive again. She could live, and not only her alternate reality, the one she created for herself in the back of her head. There was no void in her heart. There was no emptiness in her soul. She was complete. She was accomplished. She was
obsolete … but she loved it.
Mistake
“Sometimes I think it was a mistake.”
He leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. He looked at me.
“Is it a mistake?”
I didn’t say anything. It was always like this. He talked, I listened.
“Of course it isn’t a mistake. Why would it be a mistake?”
He reached out for his cup of coffee but quickly drew his hand back.
“It is a mistake, isn’t it?”
I pushed the coffee cup closer to him. He reached out for it again and took a sip. He turned his head to the side and stared at his mobile’s screen … a new message.
“I don’t know what to do anymore.”
He placed the cup back on the table and took his mobile. He stared at it for a few seconds then pushed it towards me.
“It
is a mistake.”
I knew what he wanted me to do. He could never do it himself. I used to think he was blunt and outspoken, that he feared nothing and always did what he wanted to do. But I should have known better …
“Tell me it isn’t a mistake.”
I knew I couldn’t tell him that. He knew I couldn’t tell him that. We both knew that we would only be lying to each other if we said that it wasn’t a mistake.
He covered his face with his cold hands.
“Why is it a mistake?”
I pushed the mobile back to him. He took it just as a new message arrived. There were 5 messages in total and 3 missed calls.
“She probably thinks it’s a mistake as well.”
I nodded my head without saying a word. He read the messages and stared some more at the mobile screen then slowly, he looked up at me. His eyes were pleading for help but I wasn’t going to help him this time.
“Please help me …”
He knew that I couldn’t help him but just as a child, he wanted to make sure by hearing the words being said to him. No one can help you right now.
He let out a sigh and stood up.
“All right … I get the point. I need to face this on my own.”
Without excusing himself, he stood up and left. He left his mobile on the table.
An hour later, she called. I didn’t answer so she called again. Then she continued to call until his mobile screen said that there were 10 missed calls. Five minutes before he arrived, he received a message …
Why did you leave so fast?“It
was a mistake …”
He sat in front of me burying his head in his arms on the table. He looked up at me, his eyes red and full of tears for the first time.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
***
Wow! It's been a while since I've written a story. Sorry about that. So here's a new story for ya! Not the best I've written but not the worst, either. Or so I hope ...
Her Husband
I’m only writing here to tell you that I’ll be away for a very long time. I won’t be coming back any time soon so don’t wait for me by the window. She looked at me after reading the small note in her hands. It was rude of him to do this to her. He’s been away for almost five months and all he does is send a note with this kind of language. “He’s going to leave me. He found himself another girl. She’s probably younger and prettier. She probably speaks seven languages and knows more math than I’ll ever do.” I tried to assure her that no such thing was happening. He was a war correspondent in Afghanistan. He was surrounded by men and no women were allowed to be near them. She said nothing. She was standing by the window and looking out at the streets. “He didn’t say anything about not writing, right? He’ll keep on writing, won’t he?”
The next few days were long and gloomy. It was as if a dark cloud had decided to live with us ever since the note arrived in the mail that dreadful day. Although he had specifically told her not to wait by the window, she spent most of her time next to it. She only left the window to cook and go about the house chores. Sometimes, she neglected her chores and I had to take charge. Sometimes, she even forgot to cook. “Oh! I’m sorry!” She would say, “Just order a pizza.” She hated the pizzas that she didn’t make herself. That was the first sign that indicated that she will never be the same again.
I was watching the news one day when I saw that the war correspondent in Afghanistan had changed. I called out to her and she quickly came to my side. He had disappeared, the reporter said, and they did not know where he was. “That doesn’t mean he’s dead.” She told me afterwards as she stared out the window. “Maybe he got lost while heading back to his quarters. That happens.” I was about to say that maybe the Taliban had caught him but I decided to keep that thought to myself.
A couple of weeks had passed before he decided to send us a letter. It wasn’t a note, like the last letter he wrote us. It was a full two-page letter. There was no return address or stamp. I wondered how it reached us. He explained in those two pages that he was alive and doing just fine. In no point did he mention his whereabouts or his status of living. He didn’t mention he found himself another woman but she inferred from his letter that he did. “Look at his handwriting.” She told me, “They’re very neat. Look at the papers. They’re new and clean. A woman must be taking care of him.” I tried to reason with her that maybe he’s staying with a family and the man’s wife was taking care of him. She dismissed the idea as quick as I had come up with it. “He forgot to mention that he loved me.” She said, “He found himself another woman.”
The next morning I was watching the news. There was a report about a couple of reporters who were kidnapped by the Qaeda. His name wasn’t one of them. He was still unheard of. “Maybe you should tell them you got a letter from him.” I told her later on while she was cooking. “No,” She stated simply, “It’s there job to find him. I’m not helping out.”
I kept on watching the news the next few days and buying the newspaper. There was nothing about him. It wasn’t until a whole year had passed since we’d seen him that I saw the headline on all of the papers. He was part of the terrorist group. He was one of them now. “But he’s still alive, right?” She said when I told her the news. She didn’t care that he was killing others. She was just happy he didn’t find another woman.
She stopped sitting by the window. Every day, she would wake up early, shower, get dressed, get her hair and makeup done and sit in the living room waiting for him to come in so she could run into his arms, kiss him on the lips and tell him how much she missed him. And every night, she would go back to her room and, still in her dress and makeup, lie on the bed and fall asleep. At first, I used to go into her room at night, change her clothes and wipe off the makeup. After the first week, it became a burden. Two weeks later, I stopped. Finally, after a month had passed, she stopped as well.
One day, when we least expected it, the doorbell rang. She was in the kitchen baking a cake. If the door bell had rung a year ago, she would have dropped whatever that was in her hands and run to the door. That day, she didn’t even bother to ask me to go see who was at the door. I put down my book and went to open the door. I hesitated at first and many thoughts crossed my mind. What if it was him? Would he still look the same? Will he know who I was? I opened the door. Upon laying my eyes at what was in front of me, I quickly slammed the door shut and called out to her. She came wiping her hands in a towel, her hair a mess and her clothes filled with chocolate spots. “What is it?” She asked. When I opened the door to show her the comer, the towel fell from her hands. A little while later, she was on the floor unconscious.
The man at the door wasn’t him. It was a police man with his suitcase. They had captured him. He was to be executed that noon.
“At least he wasn’t cheating on me.” She said after the funeral, “He was faithful at all times. He even mentions that in his will.” His will was as short as the note we had received from him five months after he had left. It was written on a crumbled piece of paper. There was no date and his name wasn’t signed at the end. She recognized his hand writing and that was how we knew it was his. It went something like this …
By the time you receive this, I will have been beheaded. There might or might not be a funeral but I would like to think that you will have honored my death. Before I begin, I want to tell you that I was faithful to you from day one of my departure. And in conclusion, all my belongings have perished since I joined the group. You should have asked for a divorce.I never understood that man and I never will understand what she loved about him. “He married me,” She told me forty days after his death, “He gets points for that.”
The Birthday Gift
“Don’t open your eyes.”
He had his hands over her eyes.
“No peeking.”
She giggled.
“I won’t open my eyes.”
She put her hands over his.
“Promise!”
She shook her head trying to shake away his hands but he was determined.
“Ok, ok! I promise I won’t open my eyes.”
He slowly lifted his hands and paused for a brief moment to make sure she had kept her promise. He took her hands in his and slowly turned her to the side. He stood right behind her and gently rested his head on her shoulder. He whispered in her ear …
“Open your eyes.”
She opened her right eye first and upon laying it on the scenery in front of her, the other one shot open and she stood mesmerized. Her heart beat fast and she found it hard to breathe. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Her throat was dry. She turned her head to the side only to be met with his smile.
“Happy birthday.”
She stared at him, stared into his eyes. She couldn’t believe what was going on around her. She stared in front of her again.
“You did all of this?”
He let out a little laugh.
“Yes ...”
They were silent for some time. He was still holding her hands.
“Close your eyes.”
She was about to turn her head but his whisper stopped her.
“No … close your eyes.”
She felt a knot in her throat and butterflies in her stomach. Following his orders, she closed her eyes.
“Don’t open your eyes, ok?”
She was silent.
“Promise?”
She nodded her head. Her voice was failing her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear…
“You have to say it so I can believe it.”
After much hesitation she finally spoke up.
“I promise.”
Smiling, he stood facing her. Slowly, he lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them both. She felt shivers run down her spine. He then leaned down and placed his lips on hers. It only lasted a few seconds but it felt like an eternity to the two. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He rested his forehead against hers.
“I love you.”
Her tears were foreseeable and he wasn’t shocked when he saw a trail of tears run down her cheeks. She locked her arms around his neck and kissed him. He embraced her. They didn’t let go until the clock read 11:00 p.m. and the sprinklers went on. They broke the embrace and ran to the car holding hands and laughing along the way. By the time they reached her house, her hair and clothes had dried and her makeup was fixed. She got out of the car and headed towards her house. Before she rang the bell, she turned around and waved to him. As he drove away, she remembered his gift for her …
She stared wide eyed at what he had done for her. There, in the distance on the hill arranged little sticks forming the words she never thought could come out of him …
Will you marry me?She slept soundly that night …
A Walk Down Memory Lane
"Come on! I'll show you something!"
He took my hand in his and guided me through the fields.
"Watch for the tomatoes! Grandpa hates it when we step on them!"
But it was too late. I had already stepped on one.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my hands covering my mouth and looking sideways with my eyes.
"Oops!"
We both giggled. He took my hand again and we continued to run, not caring about the vegetables my grandfather liked to grow on his farm. We passed fields of tomatoes, lettuce, carrots and trees of all kinds until finally, we reached our destination.
If it weren’t for the heat, I would have said that he had taken me to heaven. We were standing in the Garden of Eden. I think it was the grape garden. My grandfather loved grapes. There were butterflies of all colors all over the place. Green, pink, orange, etc … But what caught my attention the most was a butterfly with turquoise colored wings. It landed right on my nose. I heard him giggle. I giggled back. The shaking of my body must have startled the poor creature because it fluttered its little wings and flew away. I stood afterwards marveling at the garden’s beauty.
"Wow … "
He grinned. I could see his dimples showing at the sides of his cheeks.
"It's amazing, isn't it?"
I nodded my head. I looked up at the entrance, an arch full of green and blooming flowers. I stepped inside still admiring every detail.
"How did you find it?"
"Grandpa was showing me how to plant the vegetables. I got bored after a while so while he was kneeling down to plant some carrots, I ran off as fast as I could until I stumbled upon this … literally. I tripped on those branches over there."
I turned my head to where he was pointing. There were little strawberry plants at the end of the garden. I couldn’t help but laugh.
"That's funny."
"Oh, it wasn’t! I fell and hit my head on the palm tree! I swear, after I hit my head I couldn’t even remember my name! "
I smiled at him.
"Yes you did! Don't exaggerate!"
"Ok … ok … You got me! It still hurt though …"
I took a few steps towards him and touched his forehead with my fingertips. His face changed. His grin disappeared and was replaced with a dazed look.
“I can almost see a bump.”
I was grinning at him. I thought he was going to wave my hand away, turn around and tell me to quit making fun him. Instead, we stood there, just the two of us, on a hot summer day sweating like there was no tomorrow, our feet dirty from all the sand, under the arch of blooming flowers and green that later became
our spot, smiling at each other and not wanting the moment to end. Neither one of us moved. Neither of us made any further gestures. Neither of us said a word. All we did was stare into each other's eyes, exploring the other's depths and wanting to be apart of them. Reaching into each other's soul and holding on to it. It wasn't until my grandfather found us that we took our eyes off of each other. As we both hung our heads in shame as Grandfather lectured us about so many things I don't quite recall, I couldn't help but sneak a few peeks at him from time to time. He was sneaking peeks at me as well.
Though neither one of us dared bring up that day again, we both secretly agreed that it was the best day of ours lives. And it was on that day we both knew that our love will be eternal, like the Garden of Eden.
Or so we thought …
Now, whenever I visit my grandfather’s farm, I always head to that garden. Unfortunately now, it has become a waste land. The once beautiful garden was dying and the farm’s wastes were dumped there. The arch of blooming flowers and green was full of dried up leaves and dead flowers. The strawberry plants were replaced with containers full of hay for the barn animals. The Garden of Eden was no where near eternal. It died and was never revived again. Still, I always look back at that day and smile. I smile as I remember the look on his face, the love in his eyes and the touch of his skin.
It’s quite sad no one remembers this memory but me …
Diary Page 02
It was 3 in the morning when I saw
him. Oh my God, he was so beautiful! Can you say that about a guy? Can you describe a guy using words like
beautiful? I don't care because at the moment when I saw
him, the one word that came to my mind was just that. Beautiful. Beautiful …
It's been a week now. I'm sitting in my room in front of the dresser. I'm doing my hair. It's so long. I let it grow like this.
He told me once he likes long hair. I had short hair back then you know. He used to tell me, "I don't like girls with short hair. Not that girls with short hair aren't attractive. I know lots of hot short-haired girls. It's just that I prefer to run my fingers in my girl's hair." So I never cut my hair afterwards and let it grow. Damn. I think I need to get a trim. I haven't gotten a trim in months!
What time is it? Oh ... it's 8 p.m. I have a lot of time. My head hurts. My hair looks great though. My bangs cover my eyes. Not that there's anything to see anyways. I was told I have beautiful eyes. Even
he said that. "You have extraordinary eyes!" But that was then. It's not then anymore.
My brother just came to tell me my mother says the guests will be arriving early. Shit. I was hoping for some time to lie down and rest. It's been so hectic. My academic future seems to be so dim. My mother is forcing me to study something I know I'll never pass through. I got accepted in the university but I don't want it! I fought with her all week but all she said was, "You're a girl. You are not going anywhere!" I hate her. I tried reasoning with her. She wouldn't listen. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her so much.
My makeup looks good. I bought a book a few days ago on how to apply makeup. I'm still practicing but I think it looks just right for the occasion. I want to look fresh. I don't want to look desperate. Unlike the day of the wedding. Back in the wedding the ladies told me I was beautiful. They all said I was beautiful. My best friend said I was glowing. I danced for the second time in front of a group of people. The first time was on graduation day. I also looked beautiful on that day. I was hoping
he would see me.
He was never there.
Now flashbacks of that night are running through my head. I was in his car. He was kissing me. He was touching me. He told me how beautiful I was. I didn't want look beautiful for him. I wanted to look beautiful for
him.
He was never there.
My brother came back again. He is such a sweetie. He brought me water. As my lips touch the glass my mind races back to a moment in the past when
his lips touched mine. Oh … if only he knew! The day he kissed me, was the day I died and went to heaven! And the day he left me, was the day I fell back down to earth. Like when Adam and Eve fell to earth. Even after repenting, they were not brought back to heaven. They had to stay on earth and start a new life. I had to start a new life. A life that didn't have
him. But unlike Adam, I was alone. Adam had Eve. I had no one.
I look in the mirror. Another girl is staring at me. Oh my God … is that me? Are those the same eyes he was staring at? I push my bangs away from my eyes and stare. He was staring at my eyes that night and I was staring into his. I only saw hate in those eyes. I saw lust. I saw want. I saw need. I remember crying as he tugged at my Abaya. And as he tugged at my dress. And as he left a trail of kisses from my neck all the way to my stomach.
The doorbell is ringing. I have so little time! I can't breathe! Like when he was holding me close to him. Like when he was forcing himself onto me. Like when I felt him stiffen on top of me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I wanted to escape. I didn't want to be there.
I can hear laughter downstairs. My mother is greeting the guests with her sweet voice. The same voice that makes me want to throw up. Like when he pushed my head down in his car. Like when he forced me to do things I never thought I would do with him. Like when I drew my head back and he had a satisfied look on his face.
It's only 8:30. I think I only have 5 minutes. 5 minutes. That's what
he said when I called him. "Are you ok? What happened?" I love
his voice. It is so beautiful. He had thrown me out of the car in the middle of nowhere. I refused to let him take advantage of me. I fought and resisted until the last minute. He called me a slut. He called me a whore. I didn't care. I was glad he threw me out.
Ok, 4 minutes left. I can't believe I'm counting down. Just like after
he called. After I wore my dress and Abaya. I remember I looked in the mirror and my makeup was a complete and total mess. There were roads on my cheeks left by my tears. There were little holes. There were black and pink and green all over my eyes. I couldn't let
him see me like that!
3 minutes lefts … 3 minutes before
he arrived I managed to look acceptable. It was 43 degrees Celsius and I was shivering. I was fully dressed and I was shivering. I wanted to cry but I didn't want to ruin my makeup. I reminded myself I was going to face a hall full of woman, a monster married to my father also known as my mother and the most beautiful man I ever met.
2 minutes left … My brother just came and told me, "Mama says you have to come downstairs in 2 minutes or else she'll take away your mobile." She always threatens to take away my mobile. She's done it before. She can do it again. 2 minutes back then and a car passed by. I thought it was
him. It was an old man.
Just 1 more minute. I'm standing near the staircase. I want to go down but I can't. Just one minute! 1 minute and I could see his headlights. 1 minute and I could make out his features. 1 minute and
he would be standing right in front of me.
My brother is right in front of me and is motioning for me to go down. "Come on! They're waiting!" It's time. Like when
he arrived.
He stopped right in front of me.
He got out of the car and I stood up.
He stared at me and I stared back.
He stared at me and I remembered how
he used to look at me.
He made me feel whole.
He made me feel beautiful.
He made me feel happy to be me.
He made me feel alive.
He smiled and I smiled back.
He smiled and I remembered the first time
he smiled when
he saw me.
His smile touched my heart.
His smile touched my soul.
His smile lit me from the inside.
He made me glow.
He made me who I was and who I am.
My brother takes my hand and leads me down the stairs. Like when
he took my hand and led me to the car. "Come on, let's get you back to your wedding." How did he know? "Your dress. Your makeup. Your hair. Look at you! You're so beautiful!" And my heart melted. And I melted. And everything I ever was and will be melted.
His touch,
his words … I want it all again.
My bangs are falling on my eyes again. They're covering up most of my face. Like when I covered my face when I was with
him in the car. He talked about everything. He talked about school, his friends, his family and anything he can think of. He even talked to me about a cat he ran over a few days before. Then he stopped talking and I stopped breathing. He was grinning. I could tell. I could tell even though my face was covered. I could tell even though I was not looking at him. I could tell because of the way he was breathing. He was going to talk again. He was going to say something about me. He had a way of saying things. He could tell you that you were a hypocrite and still make it sound like a compliment. "You're a hypocrite." He said. "5 minutes ago you were fucking a guy you know nothing about and now you're covered from head to toe and looking like a goody-goody virgin girl." I was not crying. I was smiling. My face cover fell and he saw my smile. A traffic light stopped us so he was looking at me. He tried to smile but his eyes tell me he was confused. "I'm still a virgin." I never felt any lamer than that night.
"They're over there!" My brother tells me and he points to the guest room. He motions for me to kneel so he could tell me something. "You look so pretty!" I smile and give him a little kiss. He rubs his cheek then runs away. I was alone. Like when
he left me in front of the wedding hall. Like when I told my best friend I had to leave. Like when I arrived home 4:30 in the morning and all I did was cry. Like when I woke up in the afternoon and my mother had that sickly sweet smile she always wore.
The door to the guest room is opening. I can see my mother peering out preparing to call for my brother. She spots me and instead of smiling, she closes the door behind her and walks towards me. I was thinking she was going to congratulate me. Instead, she pulls me from the ear to the door all the way cursing at me and demanding I don't make a fool of myself.
She's opening the door and they all stop talking. I'm walking in and they're all staring at me. I hate being stared at. I always told him that he shouldn't stare at me when we were in public. I was afraid they would know I was his.
He never stared at me in public. Everyone knew I was
his.
He could never be mine.
"My how you've grown!" The oldest woman says. "Yes mother, she even looks beautiful without all that makeup!" The woman sitting next to her says. "Tell her brother, tell her how beautiful she looks!" I look down at my feet and act as if I were shy. I head to sit in front of him.
How I wished it was
him.
How I wished
he was in front of me.
He takes my hands in his and kisses my forehead. "You're beautiful."
I never believed him …
Arabic Poem
قد لا يبقى مني سوى أشعاري ...
سوى إحساسي ... سوى أفكاري ...
قد لا يبقى مني سوى دموع على وجنتي تسيل ...
قد لا يبقى مني سوى قلب ينبض لقلب أسود جاف ...
و قد لا يبقى مني سوى جسد قد خلا من روح تتلوى ألماً لفقدانك ...
و ستبقى بقايا ذكريات لحب ... لحياة ... لابتسامة ارتسمت لأجلك ...
و تموت شمعة الأمل ... ستنطفئ لانعدام مشعلها ...
و تفنى أسباب الثقة ... تنقلب مع الريح أدراجها ...
و أبقى وحيدة ... حزينة ... اعيش على الفتات ...
و ابتسامتي وسط الدموع عندما تمر الذكريات ...
و قلبي لا زال ينبض للهيام ...
و ها أنا لوحدي ... حياتي مع الأحلام ...I wrote that in school on the back of my adab book. I don't know why I wrote it. I was angry mostly. I thought I wasted my life on something that never was. Heh ... I still cry sometimes when I remember and smile. I'm glad everything worked out in the end and I got my friend back.
Diary Page 01
It's almost 9 o'clock. They're eating dinner downstairs. I'm not eating. They're having pizza. I worked so hard to fit into this dress I am not going to ruin it now.
I'm watching TV. There's a movie on. I don't want to watch it but there's nothing else on TV. I hate that movie. I don't know why though, I never really watched it.
He used to always tell me I should watch it. Even during finals. He would text me every time they showed it. I didn't care really. I just liked getting text messages from him. It gives me hope that he might still think of me as his princess.
My brother just came upstairs and sat with me. We're still watching the movie. It's 9:30 now. My mobile is ringing but I'm ignoring it. Now my brother is asking me why I didn't eat dinner with them. What am I supposed to tell him? I guess I'll just tell him I wasn't hungry even though he wasn't going to buy that.
We're watching the news now. I can hear my parents fighting downstairs. My father is yelling at her. He's telling her to stop butting in his investments. The stock market was a disaster today. I think we lost more money. My mother is trying to reason with him but he keeps on saying bad words. I don't think my brother is old enough to hear those words.
I sent my brother to his room. He's playing Need for Speed, his favorite game. I let him turn the volume up so he wouldn't hear what my parents are saying. I wish I went into the room with him.
There's a woman on TV. She's screaming and hitting her head. There's a building that was completely destroyed on TV. I think the woman lived in that building. I think her son was asleep when the building collapsed.
Now there's a man on TV. He's holding a little girl in his arms. I think it's his daughter. She's covered in blood and dust. Her eyes are closed and she isn't moving. He's screaming for help but no one is doing anything. I wonder why the camera man didn't help him …
I want to cry but then I would ruin my makeup. I'm going to a wedding in half an hour. It's my friend's wedding. Her father died when she was a kid and her mother doesn't know what to do with her anymore so she accepted the first man that proposed to her. He's 30. She's only 18 …
Oh, the woman that has the same name as me is on TV now. My mother hates her. I don't know why though. She is really pretty. I think that's why she hates me. She's talking about those people they showed just a few minutes ago. They're showing what the war is doing to people.
My phone is ringing again. It's probably him. I'm not going to answer. He's going to ask me if I want to go out with him after the wedding. My answer is no of course. I don't want what happened last time to happen again. I was able to stop it last time. I don't think I'll be able to stop it again. Not tonight at least.
My mother is yelling now. I think I can make out what they're saying. I think I waste too much money because they want to find me a husband. My dad says I should marry his nephew. My mother wants me to marry hers. I hate both of them.
I look really pretty.
He would fall for me with just one look. If only he could see me. I paid the lady at the salon extra money to make me look extra pretty. I was going to impress all the women in the wedding tonight. I'm going to make them not only consider me as a future daughter-in-law but actually go ahead and make me their sons' wife. Then my parents don't have to argue about who I'm going to marry anymore.
My phone is ringing again. God, doesn't he understand? I don't want to go out with him tonight! He used to always tell me he loved me. I think I kind of loved him, too. One day I told him about what my parents always argued about. He ignored me for a couple of weeks then suddenly, just a few days ago on our last date, he said he won't rest until he makes me his. At that time, I thought he meant he was going to propose to me. It wasn't until I felt his hand rubbing my thighs that I knew he meant scar me forever so that no one would want me. We had a talk before, that his hands should not roam anywhere below the waist line. He doesn't love me. That's why I need to break up with him. I don't want to make a mistake.
The lady who lost her son is now speaking on TV. She isn't yelling or crying. She is angry at the ones who killed her son but she is calm. She is saying, "They can kill our children, destroy our houses and scatter us around but they will never have our country!" I admire her. She is very strong.
They stopped fighting downstairs. Now my mother is going to come upstairs and yell at me for any stupid act I pull. Should I go to my room? No, that will only make her suspicious. It's almost 10. My drive should be here by now. My best friend promised to take me to the wedding. We wanted to go together so we wouldn't look pathetic coming to a wedding alone.
I'm sitting still watching the news. Oh no, the lady she hates is on TV! Oh no, the phone is ringing! She is very angry! I don't want to answer because it's him. "Aren't you going to answer that?" She yells at me. I'll just pretend it's my drive. She doesn't know about him. She doesn't know about any of the guys I know. If she knew, she'd kill me. I answered the phone. I guess I'm going to have to go out with him tonight.
It's 10 o'clock. My best friend is here. The door bell is ringing and my dad is yelling at me not to keep the girl waiting. I grab what I need and head to the door. I make sure I cover my face.
My best friend is very happy. Her crush's mother is going to be at the wedding. She's beautiful so I'm sure she's going to get him after tonight. I wish I had her life. It's perfect. Her parents never fight, she has excellent taste in men (she never got heart broken) and her family is very rich (They never complain about money). I hate going out shopping with her. I can never afford anything in the shops she goes to.
I think I should stop writing. We're almost at the wedding and my best friend is annoyed. I'm going to have to find a way to sneak out of the wedding without being caught. I have to call
him and see if everything is fine. I have to make sure I'm home before prayer time. I have to make sure I wake up a virgin tomorrow. I have to find myself a husband tonight. I have to stop writing. I have to stop writing.
I wish super heroes existed … I want someone to save me from all this mess.
Unfaithful
"I'm going out with the guys." He said as he was searching for his sandals. "They're in the other closet." He lifted his head and met her eyes. She was smiling at him. How did she know he wanted those sandals? He had at least 10 others but she knew exactly which one he wanted. "You always wear those when you go hang out with the guys." What was that in her voice? Her smile never left her face. He felt a needle pin his heart.
"I'll be late. Don't wait for me." She was sitting in the main hall reading a book. The book he had given her when they were engaged. How many times has she read it? "Are you reading that book again?" He asked. She looked up at him and smiled. He felt warmness inside. "Yes, I am." He walked over to her side and tilted his head to the side to read the first line.
Her hands fit perfectly in his … He looked away. She closed the book.
"How many times have you read that book?" She was drinking water. "You're going to be late." His phone rang. She pointed to his pocket. "See? They're waiting for you." He felt a knife cut through his heart. "How many times?" She put the glass down. "This is my 11th time." He grinned, "Do you skip the long, boring parts and go straight to all the action?" She smiled, dull eyes stared at him. "No. I go through lines quickly because I memorized most of them." His phone was still ringing. "Aren't you going to answer that?" He was sweating. "Isn't it hot in here?" She shook her head, "The A.C. is freezing."
"Have you memorized the book yet?" She was heading towards the stairs. She stopped and turned around to face him, a smile was plastered on her face. Her white teeth showed and her eyes twinkled. He felt the warmness inside again. "You know … " She said as she rubbed her chin with her hand. "I have this theory." She walked towards him swaying her hips and then standing exactly in front of him. She looked up. He couldn't breath. "Once I reach the 25th time I'll be able to skip pages and I'll skip chapters when I reach the 35th time." His mobile rang. Her smile faded. "They're impatient." He didn't answer.
She was halfway upstairs when he called for her. She turned around. "Don't you ever get sick of reading the same book over and over again?" She smiled at him. "I love it. If you love something, you can't leave it and move on to something else … something that makes you feel less than what
it made you feel. I have to be
faithful. I could read other books but I would only be lying to myself. I don't like other books. I like this one. It is mine. It makes me feel so-" She was interrupted by his mobile. She sighed and smiled slightly. "Just go. Don't keep them waiting."
He started his car. He looked at his mobile on the passenger seat. He picked it up. He dialed her number. "You're only going to be late. We don't want them to be disappointed, now do we?" He forgot how much he loved her voice. "I just wanted to say goodbye." She was silent on the other end. "You aren't going to war, are you?" He laughed. "No, I'm not." There was another moment of silence. "You are coming back, right?" He smiled, "Yes, I am." She was silent. "You do know you're still in the garage, don't you?" He looked out the window and saw her waving at him. He let out a nervous laughter and waved back. His face suddenly changed. There was someone on the other line. She stopped waving. "They're calling you." She said. "Go to them. I'll be here when you come back." She blew him a kiss and then hung up.
She was in the car with him. He turned to her and smiled. She smiled back but quickly the smile disappeared and was staring straight ahead. She was scratching her right arms. "Aren't we there yet?" He sighed and shook his head. "Almost there."
He parked in the darkness. He turned to her.
She had a smirk on her face. He knew that look. She pushed him back.
His fingers intertwined with hers. She shook her hand free. He tried again but she only freed her hand every time he tried. He pushed her away. "What is your problem?" She demanded. "Why don't you let me hold your hand?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "We aren't teenagers, honey." He looked away. "Don't you love me?" She sighed, "What is it with you? We're here to have fun." She tried to push him down again but he caught her wrist with his hand. Slowly he tried to fit his fingers between hers. She stared at him and didn't say a thing. "What are you doing?" He didn't say anything. He held up their hands. "Doesn't this mean anything to you?" She raised her eyebrow. "You aren't making any sense."
He lay in the backseat all alone. His phone was ringing. Which call was this? Must be the 25th … He stared at the car's roof. An angelic face suddenly appeared in front of his eyes.
He was driving. He turned his mobile off. He passed a pay phone. He stopped, got out of the car and ran to the phone. "Yes?" He loved her voice. "Can I ask you a question?" She was silent. "Yes, go ahead." He breathed in and then slowly let it out. "Honey … are you ok?" He could sense the concern in her voice. "Where are the guys?" He closed his eyes trying to erase the events. "That doesn't matter right now. Just … could you answer a question for me … please?" She didn't say anything. "The book you're reading … on the page where it says "Her hand fit perfectly in his." What does it say afterwards?" "It couldn't be more perfect than this. She knew that he will always-" The line went dead. His minute was over.
He rushed to the car. He sped through the streets. He could see his house. He parked in the garage and ran inside. She was no where in sight. He searched every room, every floor, every hall … it was like she disappeared. Finally, he gave up. He went out to the additional room he built outside. His sacred shrine where he spends most of his time. The lights were on. Confused, he continued towards the room. There, inside, was her. She was sitting on the floor, in his favorite spot, a glass of his favorite drink by her side and reading the book. She was giving him her back. That was the way he sat … exactly. He took off his sandals and went inside. He tip toed to make sure she wouldn't notice him coming in. He leaned down to see where she was.
Her hand fit perfectly in his. It couldn't be more perfect than this. She knew that he will always be there by her side. To hold her, to help her, to save her, to love her … Tears were forming in his eyes. A single drop fell on the page. She was alarmed. The book fell from her hands and she turned around and stared straight into his watery eyes. Without a word, she opened her arms and he curled up in her lap like a little baby. She took off his shma'3 and put it aside. He cried until there were no more tears to shed.
The water was boiling. She poured in a glass with a tea bag and gave it to him. He accepted the glass. She turned around to leave but he stopped her by a firm grip on her wrist. She turned to face him. "What is wrong with you today?" He got up from his chair and looked down at her. He lifted their hands and tried to fit his fingers between hers. She smiled. "See?" She said, "A perfect fit." He wrapped his arms around her waste. "You're scaring me now … " He leaned down and kissed her lightly. She giggled. "The guys aren't giving you enough loving?" He leaned down until their foreheads touched. "I don't give a damn about the guys. I will always be here … with you. I could get love else where but I would only be lying to myself. I love you and only you. I don't like them. I like you. I want you. You are mine." She smiled. "I know." He kissed her right behind her ear. "I'm sorry." He whispered. She cupped his face in her hands. "I forgive you."
He stayed faithful to her until they parted by death …
In the Principal's Office
"Do you know why you're here?"
She couldn't look him in the eye. What she did was even beyond
her wildest imaginations.
"Answer me!"
She grimaced as his voice cut through the air. She gripped the chair she was sitting on.
"Don't you dare play with me young lady … "
She was holding on to the chair. A nail broke. She hated breaking a nail. She had just gotten them freshly manicured that morning.
"Look at me!"
She looked up at him. He was staring at her. He had that same look in his eyes. The look he gave her every time she was
here.
"You know what I am capable of … "
Of course she knew. She knew that her future was at risk. That one more mistake and she can kiss everything she ever worked for goodbye. She knew that one mistake could end it … and one could let it pass.
"So … "
She was watching him. He stood up right. He was a tall man. He had his hands behind his back. He had big hands. He circled her. Her eyes followed him. Finally he stopped, ran a hand through his thick black hair and then turned to her direction. He folded his arms in front of his chest. He had strong arms. His dark eyes stared down at her.
"I'm going to repeat this. I want you to give me the right answer this time"
Her nail was broken. What was she going to do about that? He put his hands on the arms of her chair forcing her to place her hands on her lap. He looked her straight in the eye.
"Do you know why you're here?"
She closed her eyes. What kind of deep shit had she gotten herself into?
A few minutes later … She exited his office. She held her books close to her chest. Her eyes were following her feet movement. Her feet were taking her to her next destination. She didn't know where that was. All she could remember was the answer to
his question and the
punishment that followed …
"I've been a very bad girl … "
His grin made her sick to the stomach …
Repetition
She rolled to the other side of the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her hair was a puddle on the pillow. Breathing in one last time, she let it out and sat up.
She scanned the room. Her desk had jackets, the chair had pants and the sofa had a pile of clothes. Her eyes reached the television set. She grinned. Her bra was hanging on it.
She swung her legs to the side. Something hit her feet. She looked down only to see a pair of shoes. She kicked away to make way then walked to the bathroom.
She closed and locked the bathroom door. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Dull, dark eyes stared back at her. She tried to smile at her swollen black eye but that only opened more wounds. She crossed her arms across her chest rubbing herself. She looked away from her reflection.
She turned on the water in the tub. She lifted her right leg but only fell backwards on to the bathroom floor. Tears formed in her eyes but she fought them back. Her hands reached out for the tub and tried lifting her body up.
The tub was filled with water. Her mind was blank, the water was turned off. She gritted her teeth so hard they could break. Her hands formed tight fists. She sat straight in the tub staring ahead of her.
She dried her hair with a towel. Her curls fell nicely on her shoulders. She glared at her reflection. She turned around and left the bathroom.
The bed was empty. Only one last underwear garment lay there. The bra she saw on the TV was no where to be found. The pair of jeans on the chair disappeared. The red jacket on the desk was missing.
There was a note on the bed-stand and a $150. She read the note and smiled. Tears were forming in her eyes. She threw away the note and stuffed the money in her drawer.
She changed the bed sheets and threw the old ones in the laundry. She sat at the edge of the bed. Her alarm went on. It was time again …
Ten minutes later she was dressed in her school uniform. Her hair was brushed, blow-dried and in a ponytail behind her back. Her bangs fell nicely covering her black eye. She wore knee-high socks and tennis shoes. The bell rang.
Grabbing her jacket, she hurried to the door. She answered the door fully dressed. He stood on the welcome mat smiling his usual smile. Her eyes twinkled. She smiled back.
Fifteen minutes later, she rolled to the other side of the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her hair was a puddle on the pillow. She closed her eyes … it was too hard to breathe.
It was like this every single day …
Untitled Arabic Poem
و قد أكون أول من نظر إلى داخلك ...
أول من استكشف أعماقك ...
و أول من أحبك لأجلك ...
بحسناتك و سيئاتك ...
و بعيوبك ...
~*~
و قد تكون هذه البداية ...
فتعود الرياح أدراجها ...
فالرياح تجري بما لا تشتهي السفن أسفارها ...
و تجر العروس خلفها أذيالها ...
و تلقي نظرة على الباقي من أحلامها ...
و قد تكون هذه النهاية ...
~*~
و تجثو على ركبتيها تناجي ...
و الدمع على وجنتيها تنادي ...
ربي ارحم حالي ...
ارحم ضعفي ...
ارحم فقري ...
ربي أعد لي حبي ...
أعد لي قلبي ...
روحي ...
حياتي ...
ربي ذبل جمالي ...
هلك جسدي ...
اختفت شمس أفقي ...
ربي أنر لي دربي ...
أشعل لي شمعة أملي ...
فرج كربتي ...
اكشف همي و غمي ...
~*~
و تبقى على حالها في كل ليلة ...
و تخرج للناس بكامل الزينة و البهجة ...
و ما يعلمون ما بها من حرقة ...
و لا يدرون ... لعل الله يحدث أمرا ...
فتعود كما كانت ... سعيدة ... هنية ...
~*~
Stupid Girls
He knew there were consequences. No crime goes unpunished. Nothing goes unnoticed. He looked back. There she was, in her usual place, most probably daydreaming. When her eyes met his, she quickly smiled at him and waved mouthing a "Hi!" He forced a smile and waved back slightly. She sighed and crossed her arms across her chest still smiling at him. He knew exactly what she was daydreaming about a few seconds before. He knew what ideas were going through her head at that moment. Still smiling, he turned to face his friends and quickly, the smile faded.
He knew it was an unforgivable crime. He knew atonement was the only road to peace and rest. Closing his eyes, he lowered his head. His bangs covered his eyes. It seemed that no amount of gel worked to hold back his hair. He made no attempt to move the bangs away from his eyes.
He stared wide-eyed at his hands. Were those really his? He gripped his hands into fists and sighed looking up again. His friends were laughing, hitting each other exaggerating a point if not all points. He suddenly felt someone punch his right arm. He turned around to find his best friend laughing and the others pointing at him. He smiled and nodded his head.
He looked back again. She was still there, fidgeting with her handbag, checking herself in the mirror every now and then, making sure she had just enough lipstick and blusher to bring out her hidden beauty. She ran a hand through her long hair. Her fingers found no obstacle and slid smoothly down her hair. She smiled and satisfied with her appearance, put her mirror back in her bag and glanced at her watch. She looked up. Their eyes met. She smiled again. Her eyes twinkled this time.
He smiled, his eyes showing otherwise. He turned back to his friends with the same look on his eyes. His best friend hit him on the back and put his arm around his shoulder. He punched him on the chest and ruffled his hair. He slowly broke out of his friend's grip and turned to the girl again. She was sitting this time, looking at the sky. Her cheeks were puffed. Her face was red. He gritted his teeth.
They were calling for him now. He could see her staring at him. She smiled, her teeth not showing this time. He joined his friends. One of them was talking about his new girlfriend. Another was going on about his new car. His best friend was telling his story … the story of the crime.
He turned again to look at the girl. Her hair was pulled back now. There was no spark in her eyes. When their eyes met, she smiled, her eyes showing otherwise. She glanced at her watch and then again at the sky. A friend of hers passed by. They exchanged hugs and kisses. After the greeting was over, she was still standing, her eyes staring into infinity.
"She doesn't even know!" yelled out his best friend. The boys burst out laughing. He only smiled. "Where is she?" asked one of the boys. The best friend grinned, "Right over there." Following his finger, the boys all turned to the girl. He turned just in time to catch her leaving. She looked him in the eyes. Her eyes were gleaming under the light. She waved to him goodbye and left. The boys all punched and hit him congratulating him on his achievement. He smiled, his eyes sparkled. He threw his arms around his best friend's shoulders and walked away. He did it.
That would teach her a lesson she would never forget. Never screw with power. It'll screw you.
How Did It End Up Like This?
Her forehead touched the chilly surface of the mirror in front of her. A single droplet of water fell to form a tiny pond. She watched as another drop joined its sister and enlarged the tiny pond. Slowly, many more followed. She didn't budge. She breathed in. The air filled her lungs as her whole body quivered. She swallowed and closed her eyes shunning away the image of the small pond she created. A tear was forming in her eyes. Soon it will enlarge the pond even more. Without waiting any further, the tear, along with many others, escaped her eyelids and fell into the small pond.
He stared at the nothingness in front of him. His eyes were dull, his face pale. He looked at his hands. His hands turned into fists. He closed his eyes and breathed in heavily. He let out a long hot breath and opened his eyes. He covered his face with his hands and slowly ran them through his hair. Little sweat drops were still present on his forehead. He bit his lower lip. He shook his head. He stood up but quickly sat again. He turned his head towards the window and stared at the nothingness once again.
She splashed more water on her face. She looked into the mirror to see what it reflected. She did not recognize the face that was staring back at her. She felt more tears forming in her eyes. She splashed water on her face. With one last look in the mirror, she turned around and left.
He made no signs of movement when the door opened. He knew she was staring at him waiting for a sign of acknowledgment. He didn't budge. He knew she wanted him to hold her as she cried. He knew she was crying. He could smell it in the air around him. He felt that someone else joined him on the bed.
She sat at the other end giving him her back. She reached out for her shirt and jeans. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she put them on. He didn't move, didn't even bother to lift his eyes to meet hers. Not that she expected anything from him.
She was going to leave any minute. He knew that. His eyes were starting to water, the vision was blurring. The extra pressure on the bed was released. He heard the clanking of keys and she was within his line of vision again. She bent down for her heels and lifted her head. Their eyes met and locked. She turned her head away first and left.
Closing the door behind her, she threw her heels on the floor and put them on. She held up her hair with a clip, she brushed of her clothes and walked away.
He lay on the bed staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.
She never looked back.
He didn't look out the window.
And so ... it begins ...
My beloved blog ...
You will become my note book. No my best friend. I will tell you my little stories. The ones I never had the time to write. Stories about sorrow, happiness, love, hate, laughter and tears. Stories showing my other side, my dark side. What I write does not always reflect what I did or what I wish for. My stories reflect what I see, what I feel, what I hear and what I touch.
My beloved blog ...
You will become the new home for these stories.
So let us start.
