When I heard my phone ringing I thought that the memory card went crazy one more time. It was his ringtone and I knew he is in deep Africa. I knew that mountains, rivers, jungles and thousands of miles separated us. That’s why when I saw his smile on the screen I knew that it is one of my good days. It was another day where he’s taken me by surprise. He was finally home.
The first thing that came to my mind was that he came back on time. I guess that the first thing I told him was you came right in time. I felt relieved he was back. I was drowning in the fierce storm of my mood swing. His voice was my safe shore.
Things started as withdrawal symptoms of the HH addiction. I missed him. I simply missed him and I couldn’t say it out loud. I couldn’t admit that I wished that plan would never work. I couldn’t locate the source of that feeling. I stood still feeling defeated in front of that unexplained feeling. I feared talking about it with anyone. I knew the reactions so I spared myself the blames. So I denied the feeling, I fought it then I surrendered. And as things change and so do I, instead of getting back to my addiction I decided to get myself busy. I am still jobless so I decided to put more effort in the job hunting process. And that was when things got worse.
I had an interview in a bank, I never liked banks. It is just not my type of work. But I fought the urge to cancel the interview appointment. I put on whatever fits, as I have lost 13 kilograms of my weight, and I just did it. And there in an empty room I sat to fill in an application. Lots of silly little routine questions, then it popped up. “How do you see your career in 5 years”?
I don’t know why I remembered my friend “Amany”. She was the first one to come to my mind as she always suffered from flashbacks. I don’t get flashbacks often. But this question made the last 8 years of my life re-play as a silly movie. I remembered how it felt filling such applications 8 years ago. And I remembered how I answered that question 8 years ago. I remembered my old job. I remembered how I wanted things to be and how things ended up being. I found myself puzzled and blank. I couldn’t write anything. I couldn’t write the truth that the word career sounds as out of my world. I couldn’t shout “Get Real, what’s a career in an Administration Assistant position”. I swallowed my memories and simply wrote that for some of us 5 years might be a number for others it might be nothing. As for me, I prefer taking one step at a time.
I finished the interview and got back home with a mood swing about to peak. It peaked later that day as I was the person a family gathering decided to reform. For them I was jobless and single. They added the little cherry on the top of my loser whipped cream and my mood was now a perfectly bad mood.
That was the mood I wore to our meeting. I was cornered in the loser trap. Darkness was the color of my life. I needed a way out. I needed someone to listen not to blame. I needed someone to sympathize not complain. I couldn’t take another “I have told you so”.
It was a typical morning. And we were the same two persons who sat to that very same table twice before. But things change. It wasn’t a date. I didn’t have the same buzzes I had the first time I met him. For me he was the same person, the only thing that differed was that I highlighted the friend not the date. It still felt safe. I still felt happy. But this time it was easier. It was easier because the woman knew that she’s not being judged. I was the friend, and friends are being accepted the way they are. I didn’t have to think of a way to impress him. I didn’t have to try to win him. All what I have to do is to enjoy his company. All what I had to do was pouring my insecurities into his ears. He listened and didn’t blame me. He pulled me out of the storm. Though talkative is my first name I didn’t find much to be said. I just reached for his hand. I wanted to tell him a hundred different things. I wanted to cry. I wanted to ask him to stay longer. I wanted to ask him about a song, I wanted to tell him a dream. I wanted to gossip. I wanted a thousand different things. But instead I just reached for his hand. I wanted to feel it was ok to be weak. I wanted to feel it was ok to ask for support. I wanted to know that regardless how bad things can go there will always be someone to say No Woman, No Cry.
The first thing that came to my mind was that he came back on time. I guess that the first thing I told him was you came right in time. I felt relieved he was back. I was drowning in the fierce storm of my mood swing. His voice was my safe shore.
Things started as withdrawal symptoms of the HH addiction. I missed him. I simply missed him and I couldn’t say it out loud. I couldn’t admit that I wished that plan would never work. I couldn’t locate the source of that feeling. I stood still feeling defeated in front of that unexplained feeling. I feared talking about it with anyone. I knew the reactions so I spared myself the blames. So I denied the feeling, I fought it then I surrendered. And as things change and so do I, instead of getting back to my addiction I decided to get myself busy. I am still jobless so I decided to put more effort in the job hunting process. And that was when things got worse.
I had an interview in a bank, I never liked banks. It is just not my type of work. But I fought the urge to cancel the interview appointment. I put on whatever fits, as I have lost 13 kilograms of my weight, and I just did it. And there in an empty room I sat to fill in an application. Lots of silly little routine questions, then it popped up. “How do you see your career in 5 years”?
I don’t know why I remembered my friend “Amany”. She was the first one to come to my mind as she always suffered from flashbacks. I don’t get flashbacks often. But this question made the last 8 years of my life re-play as a silly movie. I remembered how it felt filling such applications 8 years ago. And I remembered how I answered that question 8 years ago. I remembered my old job. I remembered how I wanted things to be and how things ended up being. I found myself puzzled and blank. I couldn’t write anything. I couldn’t write the truth that the word career sounds as out of my world. I couldn’t shout “Get Real, what’s a career in an Administration Assistant position”. I swallowed my memories and simply wrote that for some of us 5 years might be a number for others it might be nothing. As for me, I prefer taking one step at a time.
I finished the interview and got back home with a mood swing about to peak. It peaked later that day as I was the person a family gathering decided to reform. For them I was jobless and single. They added the little cherry on the top of my loser whipped cream and my mood was now a perfectly bad mood.
That was the mood I wore to our meeting. I was cornered in the loser trap. Darkness was the color of my life. I needed a way out. I needed someone to listen not to blame. I needed someone to sympathize not complain. I couldn’t take another “I have told you so”.
It was a typical morning. And we were the same two persons who sat to that very same table twice before. But things change. It wasn’t a date. I didn’t have the same buzzes I had the first time I met him. For me he was the same person, the only thing that differed was that I highlighted the friend not the date. It still felt safe. I still felt happy. But this time it was easier. It was easier because the woman knew that she’s not being judged. I was the friend, and friends are being accepted the way they are. I didn’t have to think of a way to impress him. I didn’t have to try to win him. All what I have to do is to enjoy his company. All what I had to do was pouring my insecurities into his ears. He listened and didn’t blame me. He pulled me out of the storm. Though talkative is my first name I didn’t find much to be said. I just reached for his hand. I wanted to tell him a hundred different things. I wanted to cry. I wanted to ask him to stay longer. I wanted to ask him about a song, I wanted to tell him a dream. I wanted to gossip. I wanted a thousand different things. But instead I just reached for his hand. I wanted to feel it was ok to be weak. I wanted to feel it was ok to ask for support. I wanted to know that regardless how bad things can go there will always be someone to say No Woman, No Cry.
P.S.
He brought me books that I would have chosen myself, he kissed my forehead and he drew a perfect smile on my sad face. It was perfect. He was shining as a sun in a winter day. And one more time he awakened something in me. I wish those couple of hours could last for a couple of weeks but this is how things go, only the good times pass so fast.
I think I wasn’t wrong when I kept the friend when I lost the man.
He brought me books that I would have chosen myself, he kissed my forehead and he drew a perfect smile on my sad face. It was perfect. He was shining as a sun in a winter day. And one more time he awakened something in me. I wish those couple of hours could last for a couple of weeks but this is how things go, only the good times pass so fast.
I think I wasn’t wrong when I kept the friend when I lost the man.
5 comments:
I am Realy happy for you.
beutiful emotions you are showing in this post.
I felt you are realy happy when you was writing that.
Peutiful girl with a great and clear heart.
Hoa dah al true love
Yours,
O.B.
Realy this Man is lucky to find a girl love him by this way.
may be u think u don't love him
but wat i can see in this post is more than love.
its a graet feelings
it is a great post
Again
O.H.
Dearest OH/OB,
I reckon you're the one seeing the inside of Shimaa from a very different perspective (or angle in this case).
The clarity and sensitivity the Miss Gamal has shown in her posts are but the sheer reflection of how she regards freindship in sacred shrouds. It is how she cherishes people in general and friends as human being worth to be loved and considered. Her 'love' for Brad is like her love to any other person she sees as a source of comfort and enjoys his/her company. So unfortunatley it is not the kind of love you think it is, but it is the rarest of all types of love; a love of a friend. This love is not nesseccarily woman to man, or romantic love. It's more like human to human love.
Her sensitivity and sentiments pour out of her to flood valleys of dry valleys and barren lands, her love and huge heart fill up the gaps amidst dessert cracks and warm raindrops heal thirsty terrains.
everything she writes, and everything she does or even says, shows what miracles a big heart can produce.
I must admit that I myself have an ocean-load of love for her, for everything in her; the girl, the womann, the mother, the daughter, the sister, the writer, the cook, her voice, her attractive looks, her skin, her smile, her and last but not least: her "couer d'or".
Because I believe that the Almighty works in mysterious ways; I think that this is his way of proving that Shimaa Gamal (his masterpiece) is unmatched, because he hasn't created the man worth having her as of yet.
freinds are not a man and a woman ... they are only two beings caring for each other's issues, even if they are perfect nonsense
strange that although it should get stronger when they are engaged ... this layer seems to fade !!
arent our loved ones ... supposed to be also our freinds ?
--------------------------------
the different angle ... i have experienced that with my Ex fiancee .. after we reached a dead end ... we succeded to switch into a lovely freindship .. it will last
... beautiful and stable ...
---------------------------------
love ... lust ... union of body, soul, and mind !! that is different ... and requires lots of work that few can do
u touched me ... with this post!!
Hello Dear
I once read someone describing friendship, he wrote that our friends are those ones we would meet, keep silent then go home feeling that we had the most fruitful discussions in our lives. Friends accept us the way we are; it is a relation by free-well. We choose our friends, we select them and we make the obligation of being there. No one choose his family, your obligations to your family comes with your birth certificate. No one choose his co-workers, it kind of comes with the job and if you couldn’t fit you have to make the decision of tolerating or quitting.
Only our friends are the people we choose. Our love to them is our source of obligation. As you said, friends care about everything even the perfect none sense. Because they are the only ones who could understand how this none sense could mean lots of us.
When friends get involved, things change. Not because the friendship faded but simply because when it comes to man/ woman relations expectations rule. And expectations lead to resentment and disappointment. It is us who sometimes kick friendship out. Our loved ones aren’t supposed to be our best friends. But if we were blessed to have our best friends as our lovers this would be the best thing in the world.
It is not easy to maintain a friendship after break-up. It takes a lot of courage. Many will say that love can’t be degraded to friendship. I see it from a different perspective. Friendship isn’t a degradation of love. In many times friendship is the upgrade.
When I close my eyes and see myself in love and old. I don’t see an old woman fighting with an old man. I don’t see lust. I don’t see anything but a safe company, a pure friendship that was enhanced by a long companionship. My idea of a perfect love is the feelings that will be sustained regardless how bad things went. What will remain after everything else is gone.
Have a great day dear
Post a Comment