Knowing You, Knowing Me

Perhaps one of the things I fell in love with is the truth.

I have never been so true to myself, and though you sometimes bite your teeth down in jealousy, you still accept who this woman is, and what she needs.

I still get those pushes towards the marriage route, and sometimes the idea of a home does sound appealing. But am willing to give up this truthfulness.Who will accept the truth of one’s sexuality without insult, without repress, or moderation?

And how do I make him believe that I am not bisexual for his pleasure and that no threesomes are involved in this bodily choice?

You are a good man, but I have a better man, and he knows the truth.

Looking forward to…

White hotel sheets and poached eggs in the morning. Long walks and shopping sprees in the noons. Chocolate treats and photographs in the afternoons. The twinkle in your eyes under the city lights in the evenings. And your softness at night.

Who says reality is never better than dreams?

One more time I want to have that boat for us. (elsha5toora).To sing for you and me. Mawjoo3 bejroo7 elhawa shu byenfa3o? Mawjoo3 ma be2ool 3alli byoja3o wet3n 3abalo layali elwaldani, ya 6ayr…. One more time I want to have you, all mine, before he takes you away.

I remembered something today… The first time you said you loved me… It was a text message.. I was sitting on his sofa, in his house.. It was his birthday… 2003..

And now he takes you away.

Looking forward to seeing you a bride…
Looking forward to seeing you happy, glowing, even if for someone else.. I want to be there for you, make sure you’re okay, make sure you don’t worry too much and remind you not to frown on…
Looking forward to holding your babies… A baby that lived inside of you… A miracle that I am already in love with! Your children, will they look like you? Will he let you name one after me the way you said you wanted, always, when we said we’d babysit each other’s children?

I am looking forward to all of this. Isn’t it enough that you’ll be in it?
I will not be sad but I will be in pain. I deserve you. And I’m not sure how I lost you in the first place. Way too soon.

Memories are not enough.

My life lacks a penis

She was upset.

I said: “I wish I was marrying you.”

She said: “I would marry you for free.”

She was very upset. But she’s just made me happy for days to come.

So now all I need to do is be re-born with a penis.

Because it’s sunny outside.

I got back from Kuwait to London recently, since my short vacation is over.

In Kuwait, I realized that my lips can still function passionately on another human being, as awkward as it may be, even if their name is not is synch with my heart beat.

Of course, since she has decided to take a stroll down Straight Ville – I don’t blame her since that’s where people get babies from – I am left to explore other possible connections. Only to realize in the end that I am not cut for this crap, and that I would rather walk down with her on Straight Avenue while she goes on about her daily life, simply because I want to be with her whether the way I want or not.

So yeah, I finally gave in to the ridiculous “best friend” label. Happily doing best-friendish things. And do not blame me, alter-ego, coz you would do the same. How else would I see her? So, I settle, while having my own late teen-like adventures on the side.

On a different note…
You never lose your true friend.

And…
Even though I completely blank on it sometimes; I am not alone in the world.

And…
I am only happy because it’s sunny outside. And because of infinite possibilities ahead.

A little less stress…

“Remember, you cannot undo what’s already been done, so don’t waste energy questioning the past. Instead, focus on navigating your way out of the current instability so you can get back on schedule.”

Sometimes horoscopes tell you exactly what you need to hear.

I am thankful for the present.

For a once in a lifetime chance of meeting so many interesting and diverse people.

I am thankful for money, it brought me here.

I am thankful for technology for making it easier to be away from home and the ones I love.

I am thankful for her. Even if she be not mine, she still is the comfort, the softness, and the sweetness that life offers me once every never after.

Let’s just drop the past and its burdens, let’s just drop it. I cannot carry its heavy weight and its guilt around with me. I don’t want to crawl under it’s mass. Let’s just drop it, and not base future decisions on it. All I can say is I’m sorry, and all I can do is believe that for me there will be forgiveness. I’m hopeful Allah will forgive me.. But I am tired of the guilt. So I’d rather be hopeful than guilty, and just move onwards.

I never got this guilt with girls. So, call me sick if you must.

Stars and Walls

I want to be back in that room…

Back between those sand-colored walls that saw you and absorbed you…

I want to lay in that white bed.. And look at the ceiling. Count the mismatched spotlights. Stare at the orangish cupboards I always hated, and you always praised.

That room.. That prison.. That safe haven that kept us locked in, and kept our secrets secret. The walls that listened to your moans and smelled your sweat. Those walls.. I want to touch those walls… How many memories.. How many symbols.. And how much longing can all be in one room?

That theatre.. Where we performed.. And made wishes.. Made crimes.. Materialized our sins. Over and over again.

Maybe because it’s small.. Intense.. condensed.
Maybe that is why I see you in it so vividly.. Your naked back.. Your hair.. Black as coal against your white skin.. Long.. Then shorter.. Then shorter.. Why did you cut your hair?

I want to be in that corner where you cried.. Apologize for you again and again for being in love, and being so harsh at it. If I could just keep you in there with me all day and stare in your eyes and forget all about the “others”… The momentaries.. The newcomers.. And those who stay.

If I could have them all lined up on that wall and cross them out with a piece of chalk. Erase them and erase with them all the mistakes that made these walls weaker.. My walls weaker.. My hugs less nourishing.. My kisses less desirable.

Oh what that piece of chalk could do.. And how it could put back everything in its rightful place. And I would then have no dreams of her. And no space for her invasion..

I would not let her infiltrate me like she does.. Tries..

Who does she think she is? Scraping away all that is old.. All that is precious to me.

How can she believe she is a new soft breeze when she is in fact my darkest nightmare, trying and trying to fill my life with her scent when I only want yours?

My walls… Will they ever see her?
I wish never to let her in my sacred chamber, even if it were a catacomb. That room belongs to you. Your body. Your desires. That bed is yours. That window. That lamp. And all the mismatched spotlights.

“wouldn’t it be wonderful, if there was an opening in my ceiling, and we could see the stars?”

You laughed at my foolishness that day.. In the dark..

“If there was an opening, we’d be looking up your brother’s room!”

The more the gloomier

I remember it as a child… The first rain fall. I could swear by it’s dampness on my cheeks, and the fuss we made about it. It’s raining.. That was enough to make us smile.

And I remember it again as an adult. Driving. Listening to Fairuz. And the first and last time I was “in love” with a man.. He said, let’s not walk today, it’s raining.. And I said please let’s do, because it is. And the very same sweet feeling was there, the dampness, the happiness, rain made me smile. And maybe it also made me overrate his company. The bastard.

Whatever happened to that?

Why is it that the rain in Kuwait lifts my spirits. But when I am in London, and open my curtains to clouds and wet, I get gloomy and forlorn?

I miss my mother, so so much. And what a strange feeling! What a strange sentiment that when I went away, we became closer! The hugs I was afraid of giving now pour on her like this rain. Perhaps it is because of days like this, when I miss her smell so much, that when I do have her beside me I try to fill my lungs with it. What a strange change.. The boss has finally become the mother.

Who in God’s name cleans windows on a rainy day? The British work in mysterious ways.

Speaking of work, that is something I should be doing. Everything is due tomorrow. Everything. And I am fasting, and hungry, and craving coffee and cigarettes too much for my own good.

And chocolate, of course.

I’ve decided…

Since I’ve been in London for almost two years now.. And I only had crushes on girls.. I don’t think I can blame it on Kuwaiti men being so darn ugly anymore, I have to face it, I’m a fucking dyke. Bisexual no more.

I’m not your regular dyke either, I have a very specific type: straight women!

Why? Why? Why?

What are the odds?! ALL STRAIGHT?!

Let’s talk about the two women I’m crushing on right now…

1. L.

Well, she is.. Well, I don’t know.. She’s so much like her! And I don’t know if that’s a good reason, but it was a start, and then after you notice someone, you start seeing the rest of it, all the amazing things about then just start making an appearance. And there’s something about the way she talks.. She doesn’t open her mouth fully.. And her words sound from between her teeth.. Just like her!

*paper moon playing* *remembers the time we listened to that song in your car…* 

“But it wouldn’t be made-believe if you believe in me”…..

no one is like her.

Anyway, I met L’s boyfriend. And he’s a fucking greek god. What the hell?! I’m not up for this competition. And she’s getting a good laugh, isn’t she? She LIKES the fact I like her.. Ego boost? Whatever! I don’t care about your damn ego!

2. E.

Why can’t she see me?

Am I just invisible? She smiles to everyone! Why can’t she see me???! It pisses me off. Don’t you notice when someone is staring at you this much? Doesn’t she REALIZE I come here to see her? LOOK AT ME DAMN YOU!

French bitch.

 

“birds do it, bees do it, even educated flees do it, let’s do it, let’s fall in love…”

*remembers our days in your apartment*

And I’m wearing that perfume…. Today!

Remember dancing with me?

Who’s picking the songs today?!

*she’s making espresso coffee…..*

But I love you…. I love you… I don’t love L. And I don’t love E.. I love you… And I want you… Just you…. Is that so difficult to understand? If I found the person. Why can’t the person just find me back!?

And the irony?

I’m writing this post and this Japanese girl who’s (I think) crushing on me comes in.. And sees me.. And flutters her eye lashes like always.. And stares.. OMG I’m not imagining!!! LOL She’s staring… She’s doing EXACTLY what I’m doing to E!!!!

Happy (semi) 5th anniversary my love.

of Sama

This is not a love book.

It is not a present for Sama.

It is not a love poem that will keep me forever in her heart.

This is not a love book.

Or at least I do not intend it to be.

Sama does not deserve a love book.

Sama hurt me, she hurt me so bad.

So this is not a love book.

It could be a love song..

A song I wrote a long time ago.

Before I met Sama, before I wished for her existence.

Sama, my sky, my star, my beautiful moon.. Should this be a love song for you?

Or should it simply be a diary of my heartaches? Of me being a woman, and you being a woman.. Of me being away.. And you being even further away..?

If this is not a love song, then what is it?

What should I make this, what kind of present will be fit for you Sama?

I could think of no reason to write you this book.

I could write it about your eyes, about your lips, their softness, their puffiness, and the wonders they created on my mouth and body.. But what for?

I could write it about your skin, your eyelashes, your beautiful long black hair, but what for?

For you? But I am in too much pain to write you a book, Sama. Or a love song. Or anything that has to do with love.

So I have finally decided, that this is not a love book. Not a love poem. Not a love song.

Anyone who calls it any of these things has me to answer to.

I give her credit…

There is comfort…

In the white of her walls.

In the white of her sheets.

In the white of her skin.

There is comfort, that I could not find anywhere else on this earth..