to my friend

Where do I begin my friend? You even refuse to view this blog; you probably don’t care enough. I wonder if I did give you the link though! I think I didn’t. I wouldn’t really change a thing anyway.

I met you my friend for the first time about five years ago on that trip to your city. It wouldn’t be accurate to say it was a twist of fate to meet you, it was more of a series of twists! Typical of Libras, you were charming and sweet. I was amazed by our flow of conversation and your revolutionary thoughts although you didn’t read many books. We seemed to share a lot of things. I was really happy to meet you. It was a thrilling encounter. The kind of encounters that makes you think that wild things are still possible, and that you can still meet people you fall in love with. I even thought I might love you!

I was sure of what you mean to me. I held you close to my heart. I was always uncomfortable with labeling someone as a best friend, but secretly you held that status. You were the one I could trust most, feel free with most… It wasn’t easy our friendship. Distance is a bitch. And time revealed how different we are. Or maybe we change. Of course we change. If I look at where we were, and where we are, it becomes clear. Even my views are changing, my views on religion, society, relationships, sexuality, family bonds, friendships. They all keep changing. I wonder where my views would take me next.

We had our struggles. Maybe our first one was about how to spend our time together. Ever the Capricorn, I wanted to some organised fun. An arranged meeting. A time to for proper catching up, etc. You refuse such rules I figured. You value fun, and fun doesn’t have to be organised, does it?!

You criticised religion, but then you refuse to fully abandon it in some sort of Pascal's Wager which I abhor. You put your dates first, while I would never miss seeing a friend for unless I see him/her quite often enough. I always thought that we should talk about our issues, because that’s what would make us grow as friend and become closer. That wasn’t really “your way”!

Don’t get me wrong my friend. I know I tend to think I’m always right. But I really questioned myself a lot around you. I questioned my thought and actions. I thought of myself as a controlling freak; a stubborn bitch, unable to compromise or accept others for what they are; or an idealistic dreamer with too ambitious expectations that will always fail to materialise.

I felt like what you mean to me is so much different from what I meant to you. That realisation wasn’t an easy one to make or to arrive at. But then again, I did feel many times that you do love me, you just perceive it and react to it in a different way.

Quite recently, there has been this rift I can’t get over. Seeing you with your other friends hanging round without me knowing about it hit me really deep.

What do I mean to you? Have I become some sort of a 'party pooper' for you? I can’t deny the pain. I struggled with my pride and the need to set things right with you. And I decided (was it really a decision? Or things just happen because you can’t decide otherwise?) I am to ignore you deal for me, and I was scared of presenting that to you, and you belittle it or avoid it as you always do. Silence seemed like a better choice.

But it is that silence that seems to change the whole deal, the whole friendship. What does it mean now if I can’t tell you what I feel anymore? What does it mean when we have that growing distance between us? What does it mean that I am not making an effort for “us” as I used to do? Let’s admit it, you won’t make it! (at least the way I imagine things to be)

And this doesn’t feel sad as much as it feel peculiar and curious! Or am I actually sad while I refuse to delve into it, or even admit it? It’s funny that I am not even sure how I feel about this. I guess I should be torn to pieces, in pain. This isn’t really how it feels, and maybe that’s the REAL sad thing.

You miss me, I think. I miss you. I miss us.

Painful Realisations

"No one could get to me like this. I never felt like this with anyone. But I forgive you!"

Is it an unfair world or it’s just chaos?!

So, I am a person deemed rather cold by a considerable number of people. I pondered this every now and then. I was confused: Am I good at internalizing my feelings or I just don’t have a lot of feelings?

I thought to myself I don’t think I really fell in love. Aside from two major crushes for two straight guys, there was nothing else really. And the semi-relationship I had a couple of years ago didn’t feel like love to me! It was quiet, rational and too careful! We never even discussed exclusivity through the few months we were together.

And then you walked into my life with those mysterious ways. Another twist of fate. I instantly felt something for you. You seem to be different. You seemed to be my kind of guy.

In those warm October nights, we came to know each other. We talked. We went to places. Places we both love. We shared stories. We kissed. We did things that were first times for both of us. Those memories haunt me. I still cherish them. I still remember you when I pass by our places. I still remember your kisses, your charm, you regal air, and your sweet flirtation.

But I knew I was walking into trouble. I knew you were leaving. I didn’t resist though. I let myself in. I let you in. I was aware of the transience, and the impending pain. I carried through. I held onto the dream that I mean to you what you mean to me. Despite your hard ways and my intuition that kept telling me that you’re heartbreaker. And so you leave to those northern cold lands.

You came back for your yearly visit, but never saw me. Circumstances weren’t on our side, yes. Did you really miss me?!

You started to fade, I was trying to let go. It wasn’t meant to be and I never really knew you anyway!

Then you appear again. With the same charm and promising words. My heart was jumping. I didn’t want to believe. Believing means heartbreak, I learned.

I call you and you’re in the airport. It was valentine’s night. But who cares about valentines anyway!

I let go of my pride and go to meet you. It was still there. My passion for you hasn’t changed. We sit in that old downtown café, where we once sat before. We talk, we drink beer, and I do realize. Oh you’re seeing someone. Yes, she’s Swiss based. She’s here in Egypt with you, how sweet! Yes, you do like me and want me still in you life. No, no, it wasn’t a vacation fling.
Yes, it different for you. You travel and meet people all the time. I stay in waiting for you on the other hand.

Can I be mad at you though? For not feeling for me what I feel for you? I guess I can’t, my dear. I forgive you! But I can’t help but ask myself.

Is it unfair or it’s just chaos?

On Fun

A natural born pessimist? Or a mere realist? I ask myself why I have become (did I really become anything or it’s just the way I was made all along?) this way. A person who doesn’t really seem to seek pleasure in its simplistic meanings. Was there something that went wrong during my development? Is it written on the stars? Or is my fate determined by my unhappy horoscope; Capricorn?


A certain couple of incidents come to mind. I try to look into it, analyse and reconsider, in pursuit of unattainable perfection.


First Scene
Location: Training room at a rather fancy youth hostel, in Cairo.
Time: Most probably March 13th.


The team was sitting in the usual circular fashion, the one that enables everyone to see each other’s face. We were supposed to think and brainstorm what we expect of the six-month exchange program experience that we were about to plunge in. Different responses ensued. To make friends. To travel. To gain new skills. To learn about cultures. To meet new people. And then was the striking answer. To have FUN!


This came to me as if a word from outer space. Have fun? Why did I never think of that? It didn’t even cross my mind. I was going to spend the next six months in a completely different setting, with different people I know little about, in cities that I never been to before. Yet, the last thing I though of was fun! I was thinking of usefulness, effectiveness, results and consequences. But fun? Never! I try to remember my feeling then. I am not quite sure. Most probably it was a mix of astonishment, bewilderment, and a flavour of regret. I must have promised myself that I will try to think of fun more often and try to ‘incorporate’ it to my lifestyle.



Second Scene

Location: My dirty room where I spend a copious amount of hours sitting to my pc.

Time: About a month ago.


I was surfing the internet, an activity that devours a big bite of my life currently, doing my usual routine of checking the news, which I think comes with a lot of drawbacks for one’s mental health. I came upon this article covering the recent attempts by different production companies to make a film on the life of Mohamed, the ideation, the motivation, and whether he is embodied or not. I thought it interesting. The writer’s angle was refreshingly neutral. I was delighted, until the point where I got to the readers’ comments. They were pretty much the same, despite their abundance. They were a mix of ranting, shouting, cursing, and dismissing. I thought to myself ‘we are doomed’. Aren’t there people with the intellectual ability to rationally criticise such an article? It was a disgrace. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. I should know better!


A day or two later, I talk to Mena about it, and he describes the article as a good one. I concur, but I voice my dismay at the readers’ comments. He affirms it was the best part of the whole article. I wonder how. He explains he found readers’ comments hilarious. I demand a further explanation. He suggests that if he took a different attitude and takes them seriously, he would have lost his mind years ago!
And then I have another realisation.



So he laughs at matters I find infuriating. This was utterly unforeseen. He dismisses them as stupid ignorants and laughs it off. What a brilliant attitude! Instead of all the stressful moment I live upon reading such comments, which I am sure very bad for my skin. He gets rid of his stress and gives a little bit of exercise to his heart muscle.


I go back to the question. In both these situation I discover something perfectly fresh. Not just about the people who inadvertently shine with their wisdom, but about myself. I am a person who (mostly without knowing it) lives in distress and anger, and does little to change it.



How effective would the ‘incorporation of fun factor’ process be?!

The One

As I walked next to those monstrous buildings, all looking the same but with different fancy shops below them, I remembered something from my childhood. I used to be terrified by such buildings, I wouldn’t like going near them for fear they might tumble and crush me beneath them.

I don’t know why I started thinking of my need for someone. Someone that I would fall for. The one, who makes me feel special and loved, makes me feel pampered and cared for. It’s just the need for the long-sought feeling of Love. The need to be admired; both for my intellect and my beauty. A feeling that I claim I have never felt before.

I was overwhelmed by the fact that I wasn’t appreciated in that sense; the one endowed by a love relationship. It was painful. I have never been appreciated in this way. I had my reasons to be anxious, terrified even. Now, more than ever, I am very skeptical of the whole matter. My awareness of self gives me a sense of doom. I know what I need and I know who I am more than ever before. The future doesn’t seem bright.

At that moment, I thought “but I’m here, and I would be there for myself”. I thought I don’t need that person. I will be that person. When it gets dark, scary, and confusing, I’ll be there for myself. Although the thought was genuine and I truly believed it, it crushed me. It was as if I’m acknowledging that that special someone will never happen to me!

It reminds of a similar realisation I had about two years ago. I decided to choose career aspirations over personal relationships. Back then, I thought I was being cruel to myself. Right now, I don’t regret it at all. Those personal relationships I wanted to keep back then didn’t last.

Do they ever last? Only you remain for yourself.

Betrayal

The body betrays. My body fails me when it refused to follow my commands, when I lose control and autonomy escapes me. I am home bound because of another serious attack by vicious bacteria. They seem to have invaded my throat and took over the region. I did not see the betrayal coming, only except for some mild soreness the night ahead. I was being preoccupied by apprehensive parents and worrying uncles, feuding friends and a rather spontaneous gentleman.

The night before betrayal, I surrendered control to the realm of sleep. Did I ever wake up the next day? I can't really recall a moment where I feel I Woke Up. Everything was hazy. It was fever.

The next couple of days are like a fuzzy dream now. Shivers, pain, forced cold showers, needles, vomiting, pills, escaping veins, patients, and an attempt to cleanse my throat using a speculum covered by antibacterial-soaked cotton. It resulted in significant improvement of my swallowing ability.

I must have looked like a savage in the following days. I haven't taken a shower since the betrayal. But I started thinking “how much attention did our ancestors give to hygiene anyway!”. I began to like my smelliness. It was primitive. It was comfortable, far more comfortable than functioning in the maddening world.

It felt good.