This is not Part Three of Hold Heart, Don't Beat So Loud. This is not another post of Kk, this is nothing funny or entertaining or amusing. This is me. How it used to be, and how it might have been. This was my personality a year ago, this is how I overcome so much in my life, this is how I grew up, this is the person I was and the person I've become. This is me...
F called me at 11.37 PM tonight. Full stop. The last time we've talked was weeks ago, we just stopped... No specific reason, we were just exhausted from all the arguments and the exchanged blows from one another. We both needed a break from our friendship even though we never officially said it out loud; we just knew each other very well, so we stopped calling each other. And I guess that over the weeks, neither of us called the other, and that was that. We just brought it to a standstill if you may say. That was that, I moved on with my life and so did he. I slowly and gradually forgot about how he was able to be a huge part of my life, I stopped thinking about him twenty four hours a day, and I stopped thinking about what might have been. It all started in the summer of 2007. I had a Facebook account and I met F there, it was in the early hours of the morning and everyone at home was sleeping, I wasn't. We talked for hours, and even though I had plans a few hours later to go shopping with my mother, I wasn't able to close the laptop and just go to bed. We got to know each other, and the conversations were flowing so easily, neither of us had to make any effort, both of us were comfortable with it.
I was a stranger to him, and he was a stranger to me, but it all felt very natural and innate. We stayed that way for another few days, talking about everything and nothing, not speaking to anyone else but one another, not interested in anyone else but one another. Shortly, we exchanged numbers. We both knew it was too soon, but this was different, it was real. It felt real. And neither one of us felt this way before, so we took that huge step. He called the night he had my number, and we talked for a few minutes; both of us shy and feeling awkward, but it was a ''nice'' sort of awkward, the kind of awkward that said ''Please don't hang up, I still want to talk to you and feel stupid" awkward. The next day, F was grocery shopping in his co-op, and we were texting each other at the same time, he would stop by the Dairy Products and ask what he should add to his basket, he would then movie to the Ice creams and ask which ones he should get for his house. I loved it, how he was able to make those sorts of decisions and taking my say in them; even though they were simple ones like whether he should get Chocolate or Vanilla ice-cream, he made the effort to ask about what I thought.
He cared, in such an early stage; you rarely find that in a person. He was having his finals at the same time, and I'd wake him up every morning so he would have breakfast and start revising before heading to his exams. Back then, he was a senior going through his last course at his university, studying very hard to graduate and earn a decent job right after. He shared his dreams, his ambitions, what he wanted to become. Just a few days after meeting me, again, we both thought we were moving pretty fast; but for some reason, nothing mattered other than the fact that we wanted this relationship. We exchanged "I love yous" right away, knowing that it felt so real and not regretting any part of it, so excited about how saying it would change our lives forever. We barely had any arguments, finding that each day was better than the one before, thanking God for these amazing feelings that in time would grow more and more. We talked about marriage, children, family vacations, school and responsibilities. We talked about our past relationships, the pain, the strength we gained out of them, and the reasons why everything led to us being together eventually.
I was in love so early in my life, a young seventeen year old loving a person who was five years older than me, feeling so secure and protected in safe hands. This was where I wanted to be, when things started to get completely serious between us, we started having problems, they started out small and eventually led to bigger ones; but with understanding and negotiating, we solved everything, both feeling content about it. We knew how to talk to one another about problems knowing we'd find a way to make it right, we always did. We made it right. I travelled that summer, he travelled as well, but we managed to talk on a daily bases, I missed him so much while being away, not being able to wait until I arrived back home so everything would be normal again. I stopped talking to other guys, I just simply lost interest in all of them, everything was so much more clear now; he was able to make me feel complete; I didn't NEED anyone else. F was mine, and I was completely and utterly his. But the problems kept coming, more disagreements that led to arguments, forcing the both of us to rethink about this whole situation. Was this how we wanted to spend our lives?
Disagreeing about so many things that at the time seemed small and insignificant but along the course of the next few years would evolve? Were we right for each other? Was love everything? I wanted understanding, appreciation, consideration; and he did too; but we just couldn't find that, it was too hard. I've never wanted to be in a relationship were I felt like I was forced to be with that person, I wanted to feel like it didn't require any energy or any thinking; I wanted it to be easy, and I know F - specially F wanted to feel that way as well. A year later, at February, we ended the relationship. I can't start to explain how painful it was for me, having all the plans I had, all the thoughts we've built for our future together come tumbling down before me. The pain was excruciating; and the reason why we broke up was very ridiculous! I was a very jealous person, I couldn't stand knowing that he had ''girl" friends who flirted with him; and even though he felt it was completely normal, it made my blood boil.
I developed very bad habits after the break up, I started smoking, and I took all sorts of pills to stop the pain, to make me forget. I stopped praying five times a day, I stopped associating with people, I built this wall that protected me and isolated me from the world outside, my behavior changed towards everyone, including the most important person in my life; my mother. I'd turn my phone off for days, not wanting to speak to anyone, I started getting very tardy and careless about the university, and eventually I had to tell mom everything. The night after the break up and for the next few days, I'd go to my parents' room finding mom reading and I'd lie down next to her; she'd then turn the lights off and we'd lay down in the dark. Not speaking, she felt that something was bothering me, if she only knew... If she'd only put her hand on my chest and feel the pain. I needed to speak, I needed to let go, and I needed to breathe. It was too much...
I'd sometimes start crying, but she never pushed me into talking, never. I'd stay there, lying down, crying my eyes out and all she'd do is hold me, promising that no matter what the problem was, it'll all be okay eventually, she had faith in God. But did I? I stopped praying, why? Because I lost complete faith, this break up stripped me from everything, happiness, hope, FAITH in God. Sta3'ferellah, it was a very dark place to be in, and knowing that he was feeling better about it, going on with his life pretending that everything was OK killed me slowly. I finally told my mother everything, and she listened to every word without saying anything, not even when I occasionally stopped to catch my breath and tried to stop crying. She felt it. The pain, all of it. I felt so much better after telling her everything, she understood. She understood, just like how a mother should react. And I appreciated her kindness, her warmth, her compassion. It felt so good, knowing that no one else in the world would hear everything I had to say, and not judging me in any way. She was that one person for me.
In time, the wounds would heal, I knew it. I was certain, because she was able to convince me, and even though at times I'd think otherwise, I trusted her. And eventually, I did. It took baby steps, and it wasn't easy at all, I started praying again, and instantly, I felt the comfort and belief started to grow in me. I then started to get in touch with my close friends, and studied harder to improve my G.P.A feeling happy again. Even though he was the first person I thought of as soon as I woke up, and the last person I cried for before sleeping, I was getting stronger. I knew that eventually, I'd stop wanting him, needing him, loving him. A few months later, I got a call from him "checking up on me", and gradually, we started talking, I didn't want to go back to that place. I was getting better, I was healthy and content again, I was stronger! And I promised myself not to let him get to me again, he didn't; I still loved him, but I knew I wasn't IN LOVE with him. Even though there was a fine line between being in love and loving someone, yes, there was a difference, there's always a difference. And that difference kept me sane, it kept me strong and rational. It was going to stay that way, he wanted us to be friends, and I gave that to him; to prove to F as well as myself that I was capable of it, and that I had the power and capacity to handle it; it just needed some effort every day.
He got a job and I was very proud of him, I constantly prayed that he'd get financially and emotionally stable and get ready for marriage and bigger responsibilities; knowing that he'd be a wonderful husband and an even better parent; I just felt it in every fiber in my body. He called me to meet up one day for coffee, but he surprised me with something else; we ended up grocery shopping. That one thing brought back so much memories, specifically the first time he was in the same co-op buying things and asking what he'd buy. We were doing just that, in the SAME co-op. And I was next to him, I wanted to cry, feeling so much love for this person, I needed to touch him, to feel him. But I knew that I couldn't, because we were friends, and the past will always stay in the past. None of us have the power to change that, we were over our relationship, he didn't love me anymore, and I couldn't force anything to happen. I went home an hour later and straight to bed with a smile on my face, but feeling heart trended in the inside because I wouldn't stop having feelings for F. He was still my life, and I wouldn't let him know any of it. But I knew from the bottom of my heart that he knew how I felt.
He just knew, maybe it was because how I acted towards him reflected my emotions and feelings, or maybe it was because he knew me too well. I'd think that the latter assumption is the right one, or maybe both? I don't know. We became good friends, talking and laughing and enjoying our time together, we'd help each other out and made each other feel good when one of us would go through a bad problem. He always turned to me, just like I always turned to him. But we were strictly friends... Until one day we had another argument. He stopped calling every few hours, and I started to panic, I was losing him again. I lost him as a person who I could've spent the rest of my life with, I didn't want to lose him as a good friend as well, but at the end, I did. We just stopped talking, just like I've said that the very top if you'd scroll up. And now, weeks later, I found a missed call from him. HE CALLED.
He doesn't just call, not a while later and expect the conversation to be "normal", you know? He said that he misses me, I felt it too but I was just too scared to say it out loud, I screamed it in the inside, but I said it very casually above the surface, he felt disappointed. It was very awkward, and I didn't know how to react, I was just not myself, and I knew he wasn't either. But the conversation got better, and we were able to talk without the constant "breaks to breathe and absorb" moments, until he said what he said. "I want you to be my girlfriend again." and that was a huge sharp smack on the face... He wants us to give it another shot. To make it work. To start a new page, and see how things go. I didn't know what to say, how to reply. I sat down on my bed, and paused... What was I supposed to say? My first instinct was to agree right away, I still had very strong feelings for F, but was it love? Was it the "I want to be your wife and the mother of your children" feeling?
Did I even have those sorts of emotions in my heart anymore? Not necessarily for him, but just have them in me? I grew up the past year and more promising myself that I'd stay "cool", and cold. I made all these funny emotions escape my heart, are they back? Did Kk bring them back? Or is it F? I didn't know. I didn't want to say anything, at least not just yet. So I said that I'd think about it, and see what happens. If it's meant to be, then it's meant to be, if not, then so be it. But giving this another chance means forgetting about Kk, letting go of him... Was I ready for this step? F is F... The first person I fell in love with, the first person I desired so badly. He's the person who stirred all those emotions in me, he knew me; and now he wanted me again... I just need time now, to think, to act, to absorb everything, I wanted to be rational, to think with my mind, and not just my heart like the naive seventeen year old I was back then. I knew he'd understand. At least I hope he will. Allah Kareem...
Hold Heart, Don't Beat So Loud - Part Three will be posted tomorrow.
Goodnight
N. Kk
xx
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