Ten years ago I posted my very first hello world on this blog. Back then I was frustrated, and creating a blog was Sameh's suggestion.
Before creating the blog I used to email my thoughts to my friends, the thing that was usually ignored, even one of them asked me to stop doing it because why would anyone be interested in reading such things.
So, I created the blog. I started sharing my thoughts with the void. But apparently the void had ears. I made friends through the blog, and it was my means to land my dream job.
Through the ten years, I moved from being the girl who sends her thoughts in emails that no one cares to read to the girl who writes bi-weekly articles for a newly born online newspaper.
Lots of things changed in those ten years. We, have been through a lot together, you, me and the blog.
Dear readers, dear void with ears, Thank you for listening.
There is one thing about sex that makes or breaks relationships. Sex isn't something a girl "give" to a man. Sex is something you "share" with a man. Sex is just another thing you do because you want to do. It is like reading a book, watching a movie or eating a pizza. Sex is something you do because you want to do. And you decide sharing with something you like - just like reading a book or watching a movie - because you enjoy sharing it with them. You don't do it because you owe it to them, you don't do it because it is a prize or a sacrifice.
And in the same sense, they don't owe you anything in return. A man will have sex with you because he likes sex and likes you.
Acknowledging this will liberate you, your partner and your relationship.
X: I don't think you changed. I don't think anything changed.
Y: Really! You don't think anything changed? Let me enlighten you then. When I met you I wanted to marry you. When I met you I wanted to fall in love, I wanted to be loved back, I wanted to settle down, I wanted to get married. When I met you I had hopes for children, when I met you I thought I would grow old with you.
When I met you I was young. Now I am old. I don't want to get married, neither to you or to anyone else, I neither have hopes for children nor I want them. I don't feel like I want to grow old with you, I have crossed half the way alone and it was fine.
When I first met you I wanted life, and life was you. Now, I have life and there is no place for you.
There was a dimmed part of his soul. He was there but not fully heartedly.
That dimmed part is what this is all about. It is the part that he is keeping out of my reach that keeps me attached to him.
That dimmed part is the black hole that keeps pulling me closer and closer.
I am doing everything my father wanted me to do. I spent most of my life resisting him. I refused to conform to whatever "right" he wanted me to do. Now, after he's gone I found out that resisting him and not conforming were nothing but a privilege.
I had the option of resisting because he was there willing to hold a moving train for me till I make up my mind wether to jump aboard or stay behind.
He is gone and I have no choice but to jump aboard that train. As staying behind is a privilege that I can't afford right now.
Some of my best writings are wasted on emails. I know they are among my best writings because they are always honest, they are always uncensored and most importantly they are always loaded with emotions.
Why I think they are wasted on emails? Well, I don't really believe they are wasted. Just sometimes certain ideas are really good I wish I was able to use them in a bigger project.
An example of these ideas is how i described the feeling of emptiness. People usually think that emptiness is a shallow feeling, or maybe emptiness makes one shallow. But I think emptiness is so profound. It is even profounder than pain. That said, I think happiness is shallow. Think about it, regardless how happily you feel happiness never touches as deep as sadness does. It is like pain can get to the roots of your soul. Pain can reach where it is all dark and scary. Pain is pain because it can touch where happiness can't.
Emptiness is profounder because if pain can touch the roots of your soul, emptiness is the said roots. Emptiness is where there is absolutely nothing. No joy, no pain and no life. When you are empty you can't feel a thing. When you are empty you seem alive, as you breathe, talk, walk and do what "alive" people do you will be constantly mistaken to be alive but when you are empty you are not alive because what's life without feeling.
I will be ok.
I know one day I will wake up and I will be able to engage in trivial drama. I know one day I will wake up angry at a man I love. I know one day I will wake up with new attachments, with new hopes and fears.
I know one day I will wake up and say life is futile while wanting it to have a meaning, but till this one day come life is meaningless, and I am feelingless.
Seven years ago, on the eve of my birthday and while I was
preparing myself to cross into the thirties my grandpa died. I remember that
day so good because I had a good day till the point I got the call telling me
that he’s gone.
I had plans to celebrate turning thirty, and for an unknown
reason or probably just regular excitement I celebrated early.
I spent my birthday crying my late grandpa and replaying the
last months that lead to his death. He was ill, he was in and out of hospitals
to many times. He was once in the ICU and everyone thought he won’t make it but
he did. Then his doctor suggested he should have an operation. According to his
doctors his chances of life and death were equal whether he had the operation
or not but had the operation succeeded he will be able to live for many years
I saw my grandpa a day before the operation. Something inside
me kept telling me that we are saying our last goodbyes. In that day my grandpa
was in a relatively good shape, sometimes I wish I voiced the idea that crossed
my mind when I saw him and the he shouldn’t be having this operation anyway as
long as he seems to be improving.
He died in the eve of my thirtieth birthday. Yet he wasn’t
the 1st grandparent to do it. His wife (my maternal grandma died two
days ahead of my 16th birthday). And three years after his death my
paternal grandma dies three days ahead of my birthday.
I remember how sad my father was when my grandpa died. I remember
that he just went to the hospital though he knew he won’t do anything. He just
wanted to be there. Yet I remember that
he brought me a gift and gave it to me. I remember him saying that my grandpa
died yet it is my birthday. I remember him giving me the gift and saying: “happy
I didn’t know back then that seven years later I will spend
my birthday thinking of this exact situation trying to figure out what lesson
did my dad intend by giving me this gift in that time.
Did he want me to know that regardless how deeply he is grieving
the loss of my grandpa yet he loved me more, or did he want me to know that
life should always trump death?
I keep thinking of this very incident as I am passing the 37th
line while grieving my own father’s death. My father didn’t die on my birthday;
he died a little over a month earlier and a little over a month after his 73rd
I keep thinking what would my dad do, and what would he want
me to do?
I can’t claim that I am starting my 38th year
feeling lost, because whatever feeling I am going through since my daddy’s
death is more profound than words.
My 37th year was rough, even before daddy passed
away. My years start with my birthday and the 37th year started we a
huge fight with someone whom I used to consider a close friend. A fight that
led to more fights over the course of the year and eventually to the end of the
said friendship. Later on my writing dream came to an “expected” hold for
reasons I foresaw yet had nothing to do to stop or change. I also got into a
sort of relation with Mr. “Don’t count us as a relationship”. “Him” was an eye
opener. How I opened up to experiment getting lost into something that I knew
better than even attempting to seriously consider. And how doing so opened up
space for novel ideas and feelings.
A definitive moment was him asking me about a certain
someone, and how his seemly innocent question made me realize that I was never
really over that certain someone and my feelings for him had been the same. My feelings
for that certain someone remained as fresh and as intense regardless how many
years passed since “we” were over and regardless everything I did to get over
him. I even still tremble every time I remember how I felt facing that
And though it seems that I have enjoyed the discoveries that
“no relation” with Mr. “don’t count me as relationship” yet it was rough. I
still got many questions unanswered. And he/ it left scratches that will need
time to heal and might lead to complications.
But what made my 37th year really rough was the
idea that I am going to lose my dad. He had several health issues that kept me
on my nerves. Ironically nothing I worried about killed him, what killed him
was something no one would see and even worse something that no one could stop.
He died anyway, and now I am starting my 38th
year without him.
I have no safety nets. I am officially a grownup.
The birthday test never fails. Only those who love you will
remember. And only those who love you will make the call regardless how inconvenient
the circumstances seems to be.
Only those who love you will show their love because they
know that love conquers all.
I keep saying that I will be ok. Actually I am ok most of the time. I am ok because miraculously my memory decided to erase years of my life. I technically find it hard to recall simple information like my birthdate and where I live.
I am ok as long as I don't remember that I ever had a father. The moment I remember that is that moment I am not ok. And by not ok I mean that I feel suicidal. I know I am not going to commit suicide (I am not there yet) but I feel like life is futile. I can't take how absurd it is.
I am not ok. I know it is a process. I know that I will find my way out of it. I just don't know when, or how.
I don't know. I will never know because he isn't there to answer the question. Actually this is a question that I was never ever going to ask him.
I used to ask him other types of questions. My Dady "was" a knowledgeable person, so even in the age of google I would simply ask him about stuff. Random stuff, I would ask dady 1st then ask google.
I asked him about almost everything in this life.
One of the many things that scares me now is that I will always have to find the answers myself. I will always have to be sure I got the answers right because Dady isn't here anymore to validate me.
Which leads to another "important" conclusion. I think I never needed validation from people because I had Dady's validation. People always saw me as strong and confident, now I strongly believe they saw me this way because I always acted in the light that there is a strong safety net that will catch me if I ever really fall.
Did I ever took my father for granted?
Off course I did! And he was totally happy I did.
I think the father/ child relationship is the only relationship that function on the taking the other party for granted. It is the safety of having someone stuck with you no matter what you do to them.
I am somewhere between angry and sad. I feel deeply insulted. He insulted me. The whole "Thing" could have been a nice memory if it weren't for how he decided to end it.
I am not stupid, yet somewhere down the road I learned to never let a man of the hook. When he started having an attitude, I started ignoring it. I wasn't going to give him what he wanted. He wanted me to fight for a definition so he could have an excuse to tell me "you don't deserve a definition you are nothing but a fling".
I wasn't going to fight for a definition, because I didn't want one. I was happy playing along. I am low maintenance. I learned how to not want things even if I deeply need them.
Anyway, so I didn't give him what he wanted. So, he did it anyway. He said all the things to make it clear that I am nothing but a desperate aging worthless woman.
And he was smart enough to say it without actually saying it.
And no, It wasn't in my head. And it isn't "defeat" because I don't feel defeated. I feel disappointed.
I don't feel disappointed because I think what he said was true. I feel disappointed because he had to say it.
I am sad not only because it ended. I am sad because how it ended.
It could have been a nice memory, but he made sure he ruined it for both of us.
I am not desperate. I didn't do him out of desperation. I did it out of hope.
I did it to explore new territories.
I did it to grow. I need to grow emotionally and he seemed like someone who would open new horizons for growing. But he ended up insulting me.
I am not desperate. I am smart, I am beautiful, and I am sexy. I don't do things because I am desperate, and I am not nice out of fear. I do things because I like exploring things, and I am nice because I don't like people to hate me. I know they will hate me anyway, so I try not to give them enough excuses.
I am not desperate. But right now, I am pathetically sad!
And this needed to be said out loud so I could forget and forgive and move on.
My plant is dying and instead of trying to save it I decided to let it go.
It is a 10 yrs old companionship between me and her. I was about to lose it few years ago. But i did everything to save it.
I managed to get it back and it grew tall and bigger. Now it is dying one more time. But I have no energy to save it.
My plant is dying and I have no energy to save it. This is how I feel right now.
When "H" broke up with me I was in so much pain. One day I will be able to reflect on why H was that painful. After all, he was nothing but an ordinary man. Just another story. Yet, his story left me sore, too sore it still hurts today.
Anyway, so amid the pain I got a phone call from a friend. I knew that friend had feelings for me. I knew about his feelings not only because I felt it but because he told me more than once about those feelings.
Me and him were never going to happen or work. So I repeatedly told him that we'd better stay friends.
But he had the habit of calling whenever he sensed from the things I wrote that I am not feeling ok. So he called after H. And I was crying, I used to cry all the time after H.
Anyway, he comforted me and listened as a good friend would do. Then he reopened the subject of "us". I replied that I am broken and I will be using him if I said yes. He said, no. One day you will know that I am the one using you and not the oppositte.
I gave him a try.
It was a one time sort of date. He then pulled back. I needed emotional support, and he wasn't ready to give any. He acted just like any of the other men I had in my life. He wanted to be available only when he wanted to be available.
I was really disappointed in what he did but instead of blaming him I downgraded him from the friend status to the someone I used to know status.
He betrayed me.
And this is the point. We go through phases of our lives when we are vulnerable to different types of predators. We build defenses to keep the devils away. Friends are supposed to be one of our lines of defenses. So when he allowed himself to "use" a clear weakness. When he allowed himself to offer things that he has no plans to fulfill just to get me to do something I wouldn't have done if I weren't in that emotional state, he did nothing but betraying me.
We are not supposed to betray people's trust. We are not supposed to exploit our friends' vulnerabilities.
I am angry. I am sad. I am confused.
I am not ok. And the worst part is I am not ok for the same reasons I haven't been ok for the last 10 years. The only differnce it just gets heavier.
I feel old and incapable.
I am not ok.
I am angry and more importantly I am sad.
A broken thing just got more broken. Which is sad. And the saddest part of being sad is being unable to say why I am sad.
The saddest part is that no one would have anything better than "you deserve it" to comfort me.
I am angry and sad. I feel old. I feel too old. And life is definetly futile right now.
Few years ago while driving me home H brought up my writings. He sort of blamed me. He said that I implicitly ask for things that he can't offer. I still remember how I reacted. I moved from happy and calm to crazily angry in a blink of an eye.
I told him that I wasn't asking for things. And I write because writing is the only thing I have. And I can't just hide my needs because he might read and feel uncomfortable. He said he understands and it is ok.
I don't know whether or not it was really ok. But I don't remember I ever censored myself for him.
After him the question of self censorship was posed repeatedly.
I have been censoring myself to please. I have been hiding my real thoughts and feelings so that others keep living happily in their lives.
Sometimes I wonder how H managed to keep following what I write regardless how uncomfortable it made him feel.
Sometimes I feel that I should let him know that I am grateful for not trying to censor my feelings to keep his unharmed.
Sometimes I feel I owe him an apology. But I don't apologize for being myself. I am who I am.
And this- writing every thought and feeling I have - is what I am. I don't apologize for this. And I won't change this.
When he initiated our "New Phase" I told him exactly how we will end. That "New Phase" wouldn't have been possible if it wasn't for how he reacted to my "prophecy". He dismissed my worries and assured me that nothing that I fear will happen.
Did I believe him?
I did. And it wasn't related to the regular mechanism of men and women relationships. I believed him because he was "him". I have always taken what he says for granted. I trust him, I trust his views of things and I have always thought that he, of all people, will never advise me to do something against my best interest.
The point about him was never that I see him as a man, he has always been the friend, the family, and the respected figure. He held a place in my heart that no one else held. So when he dismissed my fears, I automatically believed him. I believed him, randomly tested the said belief and he passed every test.
So when he suddenly said he was lying. I couldn't just believe it. I went into denial. Accepting the fact he is nothing but a liar wasn't easy. If he lied in one thing that means he lied about everything. That's years of "blind" trust at stake. So I happily denied what he admitted, and intentionally ignored the little things he's done that all screamed "you were too stupid to trust me".
Denial was more about me not about him. I couldn't deal with the consequences of discovering that I have been wrong when I treated him as family in the 1st place.
Denial was more about the fact that I will never understand his motives. He was held dear, in a place that I would kill to have in someone's life. Why would he intentionally lose that? Why lie? Why wouldn't he think about how this will leave me?
Why did he had to dismiss my worries?
I will never know. And I will have to deal with something more than "a heart break". I will have to deal with losing a friend, someone I considered family, and someone I always thought will have my back.
I will have to deal with how naive I can be. I will have to forgive myself for letting me down.
I feel betrayed, and the worst part is that I can't really blame him for it. I feel betrayed, because I betrayed myself the moment I trusted him.
I should have known better. I should have managed things differently. I shouldn't have tried to keep his image untainted. I shouldn't have done the things I have done because they didn't change the outcome anyway.
I occasionally get trapped into a thought, whom of my men should I consider an ex?
Typically an ex is someone you have had a relationship with. Which makes the next logical question what defines a relationship?
Is it going steady with someone? Is it exploring potential with someone? Is it agreeing on future plans with someone? Is it dedicating time/ feelings to someone?
How do you define a relationship? Does the definition need to be mutual or you can call something a relationship while the other party calls it a fling?
Are flings a form of relationships?
Anyway, I don't know about you but I don't count "flings" as relationships. I won't call a guy I dated few times an ex too. I will only call those men I took seriously exs. A relationship is where I dedicated my time and my feelings to explore future potential with a certain man.
How many of these did I have?
A lot! You need the fingers in both your hands to count them.
What do they all have in common?
Other than innovatively breaking my heart?! Well, I think they all came into my life for the experience. Something about getting into my life and attempting different ways to break me seems to be irresistible. They all intentionally came into my life with no intention but breaking my heart.
It is so clear now, and what is really painful is that sometimes I saw the mess happening yet took the leap of faith anyway. What is really painful is that I took them seriously in the time I shouldn't have done that.
They were all in for the game. I wonder when will this game be over.
I think the truest test of love is wait. The one who loves you will wait for you to come around, make up your mind, step up to occassion, when you are an hour late to a date, for your name to be called at the doctor's office and will be waiting for you at every finish line you will ever have to cross.
I think the truest test of love is wait, the one who loves you will always be waiting right there where you need him to be.
Few years ago a guy asked me, "When did you start writing?". I automatically answered, "I don't know! I think I have been writing all my life!". I know the answer might sound slightly unreal, because no one would ever write all their life. At least they first learn their letters, then learn how to form sentences, then there is always a point where you start developing the writing "sense". It isn't a skill, a skill could be acquired. But the writing sense it is more like how some people will have an edge with smells, or differentiating colors .. etc.
When you have the writing sense you start seeing life in a different way and you start articulating this view. It isn't a skill of putting words together, it is a sense that like other senses could be affected by different aspects.
I don't really remember when did the whole writing sense thing started. Sometimes it feels like it has been there all my life and other times it feels like it was never there. But for better or worse, right now I could safely identify as a girl who writes.
What does this have to do with love?
Well, for the last 10 years every man I have ever met was interested in me because of the writing sense thing. It seems like my only comparative advantage or something!
Anyway, so a typical scenario will be a guy who likes me because of how I "express" my feelings, or how I have an opinion .. etc. approaches me. Sometimes I am being approached by lame people who will get shut off without a second thought, other times the guys are just irresistible! And so it happens.
At first the relationship goes smoothly, then the power struggles starts cooking. I never start them btw. A thing that many wouldn't know about me, I like old fashioned relationship power balance. But for unknown reason things never go this way. I usually blame myself, but this time I am going to split the blame equally between me and the guys.
They always seem to want to force their definition of the relationship, and I resist that. I don't give up what I want easily, so the relationship sort of get stuck between my rock and their hard place (yeah, pun intended!).
The common theme is a man so upset that I start shedding light on his negative sides once things go south. The funny part is that none of these men who hated how I told their story after it ended ever hated the fact that I have made legends out of them when things were good.
I am just writing things as they happen. When you are being a good man I happily say you are one, when you are being a bastard I will make sure this too is being documented.
I write! And the fact that I write was why you came into my life in the 1st place. So why so angry when you turn to another story. A story that will probably attract another man. A man who will try to tame the writer, crop the vision, and shove life definitions down my throat and think he is winning, till he realizes he is not.
I write! This isn't going to change, not willingly at least. And I need a relationship. I have had enough stories. I have had enough power struggles.
There is something that people tend to forget often. When we ask for advice we are implicitly asking someone to judge us. We can't blame the said person when he does so. And we can't ask people not to judge us because they will anyway. People will judge us the same way we judge people. Being judgemental is how we cruise through life. Judging people and situations is part of our decision making whether we admitted it or not. We can't ask people to stop judging us, we can though try to help them to do it "rationally".
They say that healing is a self process. They say that you shouldn't wait for someone to fix you, because no one could fix you but you. They say that you shouldn't be waiting for a helping hand because you are the only one who could pick you up.
They say healing
is a self process, and they are right to a great extent. Yet, healing leaves
scars. Scars hurt. And putting scars to test, they usually tend to bleed
The real test of healing is how we deal with a bleeding scar. A
bleeding scar is nothing but a reminder that whatever we are doing used to hurt
one day but now we are ok.
We are healed only when a little bleed is nothing but a little
Healing is all about perspective.
It is ok if your scars hurt, hurt means you have survived.
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross's "On death and dying" was inspired by her work with the terminally ill patients. In the book Ross introduced the, now widely known, model about the emotional stages of dealing with grief.
The model later was expanded to include (explain) different types of loss, like the death of a loved one or the end of relationship and so forth.
The model has helped a lot of people deal with their "post loss" status. Yet this model could shed a different light on pre-loss stage in love relationships.
There is a point in a relationship when one realizes that it is never going to work out. It is the moment one realizes that their love is terminally ill. And as we do with terminal illness, we attempt at different medications on hope it will help.
We know it is terminal illness yet we never fail to seek whatever treatment that could buy us more time. We buy time on a hope that time will save us. We buy time, on a hope that a miracle is there waiting for us and all we have to do is keep holding on.
And as we realize that whatever treatment we try is never going to bring us to the miracle we start getting angry, at the world, at ourselves and sometimes at God himself for having us to go through this.
Why should I watch my love die?
But anger doesn't help and so we move on to compromise and we start bargaining. Maybe we could redefine the relationship? Maybe he needs more space? Maybe if i kept ignoring the signs and kept acting as if the love isn't terminally ill it will never die.
Maybe .. Maybe there isn't a miracle waiting, but we should create our own miracles, aren't we?
And as we fail depression prevails.
And we start getting ready to let it go. We start contemplating how it should end. We plot plans to make it easy. But we know it is never going to be easy.
Depression Prevails, and acceptance brings on some interesting questions.
Would you sign a DNR on your dying love?
Would you rather put the relationship on life support?
Would you ever be ready to pull the plug on your "dead love"?
How could you let go?
There are five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. And it was never easy to go through them.
Long story short, I told him that I am no longer jealous because we are teammates which means other women are not competition anymore.
The idea of being teammates with a man is brand new. Not that "we" are real teammates, this is yet to be tested. But the mere idea of "coupling on basis of team-matting" makes one wonder could love ever be love with no "power struggles". Is it possible to navigate through a relationship without the regular fears of rejection/ loss .. etc.
The idea is new. The potential it brings is totally new.
Yet it is to be tested. He is yet to be tested.
Teammates, equal powers, no struggles, no fears => LOVE?!
I rarely give people ultimatums. I don't believe they are an effective way to get things done. I don't act friendly when I am given an ultimatum and I would usually act against it just because I don't like to be pushed around.
Yet, I give myself ultimatums. A lot! It is how I get myself to do things. Sometimes I ease them a bit, sometimes I grant my pathetic self several second chances. But the thing is, the moment I give myself an ultimatum is the moment I know that a certain something should be done and regardless how hard I will try to go around it, it will eventually happen.
It will eventually happen, and all what I have to do is let be.
And on a side note, there are no better ends. All ends are bitter.
There is a scene in “Meet the Focker's” that sets the
benchmark for how I define a perfect relationship or “real love”. There stood Ben Stiller (playing Greg) on a stage while
drugged with “truth serum” saying “I still masturbate to Pam”.
If I will ever be in a relationship, I would definitely want
to be with the man who will still be masturbating to me years into our
I am not feeling ok. I am not emotionally stable. And I can't remember if I ever felt the same way before in my whole life.
I am not feeling ok. And I don't really have the courage to talk it out to anyone. 1st no one would care, and the last thing I want now is to deal with cliches. 2nd, I have lost a lot of my ability to confront. I don't want the people involved in my current status to know about how I feel, or how they make me feel. Hence I can't even blog my feelings as I have always done. Because maybe someone who doesn't care will pull a cliche after accidentally reading the post or worse, someone who has failed me get to learn the mess I feel which will create a bigger mess.
So, what would a smart girl do?
Eating, spending and watching movies.
Today was slightly heavier than the regular heavy days, so I pulled out "band of brothers" from my hat of tricks. I usually watch band of brothers when I need a push to keep fighting or to be more accurate when I need a push to keep breathing.
As I watched, and though I know every scene by heart, it was the 1st time for me to notice the bayonets.
Bayonets are knives that can be fixed on your weapon. While fixed, you can't shoot straight with your gun yet in critical battles, when the chances you get out powered are high you fix your bayonet on your weapon as a last resort.
There was a scene at a crossroad. And the Captain told his soldiers to fix their bayonets. It was a critical fight, they were out-numbered, and out-powered. Accuracy of the shots weren't a priority, taking as much enemies down was.
They were lucky, they didn't lose the battle yet you can't say they won it. They lost a man and 22 others were wounded. And that was a favorable outcome.
They were trapped, they fixed the bayonets and fought as much as they could till they were out of that trap.
I am trapped. I am in a dimmed place. I can't say it is dark because there is light. But it is a very faint light, it is creating more illusions than it is showing me the way.
I am trapped in a dimmed place. And I think I should fix my bayonet.
My First man's name was Ahmed. When I met Ahmed I thought he will be my first and my last. When I met Ahmed I believed love is a "forever" thing. Then it didn't work out. And the next man I met I thought he would be the last but that didn't work either.
I moved from one "last" man to one last man. And with every last man I believed that he will be my first "love" as love is a "forever" thing.
With every "last" man I look for a "first" man ..
Love is for forever. You are only the first if you are the last ...
I was going through some of my Dotmsr articles and I realized that writing bi-weekly about relationships made me more emotionally stable than I ever was in my life.
I was on the top of my "love life game". I didn't slip into a lot of so obvious emotional traps. Back then I thought my new emotional support system is working. But right now, I think it was the bi-weekly articles that keeping me sane. (as the emotional support system is intact yet it doesn't seem to work anymore)
I don't know what made writing save me from the slips. Whether it was because I was doing something that I deeply love or because I constantly thought/ read about relationship mechanisms. Whatever the reason was, the moment I stopped writing was the moment I slipped into a "classical" trap. I am up to my ears in it. I even can't write my way out of it.
I am screwed! A couple of months ago I wouldn't have been so.
I just discovered that my dating pool is missing a Jew. I have done Muslims (all types of them), a Christian (YES! I Did!) and I did atheists. I need a Jew to complete the collection. Maybe a buddhist too.
The thing is I want to know what was so tempting in me to make him do what he did. I can't find a good reason for a man who is deeply admired and respected by a certain someone to jeopardize all that and for what? For a couple of days of a fake romance!
Why would he do something like that?
Why would he consciously choose to move from the trusted and respected zone to the hated and despised zone?
I didn't see us happening. I saw him coming yet I depended on my defense mechanisms to deal with him. He got past the defenses. I don't really know how he did it, but one day there weren't "us" and then it just happened.
I didn't see him leaving. I was skeptic, scared and kept shaking the gift life threw at me to make sure it wasn't a bomb. Finally I gave in and I was happy.
I was finally safe and then it blew up and he left.
I am ruined beyond fixing. I am too broken to be loved. It is usually fine. It is usually ok to be that ruined and that broken. But today is one of those days when this isn't really ok. And I am not really fine.
I am ruined beyond fixing and too broken to be "loved" and it is not really ok!
I don't remember I ever belittled your feelings. I don't remember I ever failed you when you needed support. I know I have done what I have done without waiting for it to be reciprocated yet it is such a shame that whenever I come looking for your support you do nothing but belittling my feelings and tripping me into feeling guilty for being "that weak".
It was a little over 10 years ago when the man I deeply loved looked me in the eyes and said: "Shimaa, you are strong, you will be able to walk out of this but she isn't.I have to be with her not you."
Some will say that the man I deeply loved was just saying stuff so that he could get out safely from the place. I would have believed such explanation if it weren't for the fact that the same exact line was repeated by different people in different occasions.
"Shimaa, you are strong. You will get past it."
And I did, I got past whatever happened to the extent that I once dared to say that I was unbreakable.
The truth is, I am as breakable as anyone else. All what I do "differently" that makes everyone call me "strong" is that I collect whatever left of the broken me and move on. I am never ashamed of showing off my scars. I proudly confess my failures and I cherish every heartbreak.
All what I do is that I bounce back.
Does bouncing back require one to be strong?
I don't know. But the fact that people will hurt me with clear conscience because "I am strong" is sort of disturbing. Because being strong isn't equal to being dense. I still have feelings. I get hurt. And the fact that I can bounce back doesn't correct the fact that you have put me down.
The fact that you believe I am strong doesn't give you the right to hurt me.
I am not made of steel regardless how much I look like I am.