~ محمود درويش – في حضرة الغياب

The word Nostalgia has such magic to it; it’s bitter sweet both in meaning as in pronunciation.

We miss people who are no longer there the most when we go through days where we could have used their presence; when we are desperate for their presence. It’s not that we don’t miss them every day on normal days, we probably do, but our conscious knows better than to let it surface, so it locks that feeling in our subconscious until those moments of nostalgia occur.

The dead are the worst to miss. Not just because they are no longer there, but also because we tend to give them a sense of sanctity after they’re gone. We remember only their virtues and somehow convince ourselves they hold on to wisdom that would have solved our current dilemmas or soothed our agony. Ironically, their death is the secret of their wisdom.

The dead are the worst to miss. Because as we remember them, they never let us down, either because we didn’t hold on to such memory, or because they passed away before they got the chance. Both way, their memory remains painfully untainted and it’s summoned every time we’re let down.

The dead are the worst to miss. Because missing them is a dead-end to the pain we feel, where we linger.

I always thought I was selfish, turns out, I wish I were selfish, I aspire to being selfish, but I never really pull through with my attempted selfishness… I really try, I really want to, I really really really perceive selfishness as something good, I talk my friends and close people into being selfish, but I could never really pull through for my own self all the way. Turns out I am a failure at being truly selfish… and it doesn’t mean I am selfless or great, I am just not selfish.

I always thought I was a give upper, that I lack persistence… God I am not! I am the kind of fighter they probably needed in those raw wars fought centuries before my time where a fighter would fall a million times and keeps standing up to get more hits in the face and the body until their own bodies fail them before their wills do. I don’t know how to let go or give up so long as my soul is tied to something; it would definitely take me down before I even attempt to let go. I may have put it in a heroic form, but I am not necessarily fighting for a good cause to be proud of that personal trait; in fact, I believe good causes have the tendency to lose me when they get tainted by what people label them… but that’s another rant.

I never thought I was the forgiving type; I always believed I was as unforgiving as sin and always trashed second chances. But I lived to see a year (or perhaps two) of me giving second chances and completely believing in them, and I am proud of myself for that, I needed to know that I have it in me to forgive, it helped me believe in people and it really helped me to let go of so much anger and hate I once thought I’d take to my grave.

I am stubborn, proud (very egoistic actually), resilient, yet whiny and in constant need of reassurance that I am a great person. Why? Because I grew up where none of that was acknowledged, at least not to my face, where I had to fight for that kind of acknowledgement let alone praise after having been fed that I am selfish, a give upper, and black-hearted. Because every time I was actually praised, it either meant nothing or was for the wrong reasons.

But it’s ok, I get it, sort of… we all have our issues and our demons and we all have them chasing us either until they get us or until we get over them… I am not yet sure which is my case; I am still haunted and lost in that forest, but this is a brief moment of clarity that I was taught to cherish…

*lighting a match*

I am a good person, a kind person, funny, smart and make for interesting company. I have good taste in about everything, and I have an opinion about everything too, but it’s open minded and accepting of others.

That match will go to a kindling, and it won’t fade out taking me to that black hole that keeps absorbing me into its darkness. A friend told me “you will always have people who love and care for you, even when you’re dark, self-absorbed, and resentful of the entire world, because a true friend will also remember how much of a good friend you have always been and will not only give you a break when you’re down, but will be there for you” … I was too angry and sad to let it go through when I first heard it, but every day, a friend does something so random yet kind for me, and it’s God’s reminder that I have good friends, much better than those I thought I lost. That’s my kindling.

You looked at me and I could see it all in your eyes behind that foolish ego that always tore us apart…

I walked toward you and wrapped my arms around your neck as you wrapped yours around me…

You started crying as you held me tighter…

Nothing, I felt nothing…

I held you tighter, in an attempt to summon those feelings I had always felt for you, to let them wrap around us and fix this, but nothing came…

I started crying and shivering in your arms because I felt nothing, and you probably thought I was apologizing or asking for your forgiveness or feeling all the things I should be feeling, but I felt nothing…

Is it because the spell that bound me to you was finally broken??

Is it because the most abusive relationship of my life, the one that created a solid pattern for all my other relationships to follow just ended in an even more dramatic way??

Or is it because I am numb?

I feel like I am a dying soul in a hollow shell of a body, withering slowly…

A couple of hours later, I laid in bed with the right half of my body shaking nonstop as it has been since we let go of each other… I was hearing the same old broken record, and instead of replying back, I could hear the echo of my words fading inside my head as my body shook even harder and tears fell through my eyes…

The most abusive relationship of my life, the one that created a solid pattern for all my other relationships to follow just ended… but it also ended me, I am no longer myself, and I no longer have the strength to get out of my negativity and try to distract myself until I am better, I have nothing to look forward to because this relationship and all those that followed its pattern had sucked me dry, and now my soul is slowly dying.

الحوار كان حاجة زي كده….

أنا: بابا، هو البيضة الأول ولا الفرخة؟؟

هو: الفرخة طبعا!

أنا: اشمعنى؟ ماهي الفرخة بتطلع من البيضة

هو: لأ، الروح دايما الأول… روحي جيبي بيضة من التلاجة و شوفي فيها فرخة ولا لأ… البيضة محتاجة الفرخة علشان تفقس كتكوت….

وعليه….

يعني اللي موجود الأول بيمد روحه للي بييجي بعده…

يعني الأم (و الأب) هما اللي بيدوا للجنين الحياه بإذن ربنا

يعني برده الأم (و الأب) همه برده اللي بيحبوا الطفل الأول قبل ما الطفل يحبهم…

همه اللي بيعلموه ازاي يحب و ازاي يعبر عن حبه، منهم همة، مش منه لنفسه…

الخلاصة إن لو مش عاجبكم أنا بحبكم ازاي ولا بأنهي طريقة، ياريت تلوموا نفسكم قبل ما تلوموني أو تقولوا عليا جافة أو قلبي جامد أو تقرروا اني لو بحبكم أعبر عن حبي بطريقة أحسن… لأن ده للأسف اللي اتعلمته منكم و ده اللي كل يوم بحارب نفسي و قطعها علشان معلموش لولادي…

أنا بسافر علشان أهرب من الأم اللي بتزنقوني اني أكونها، علشان في الغربة و وحدتها الاقي نفسي اللي أكيد هتعرف تبقى أم أحسن من اللي انتم بتقولبوها بأحكامكم اللي محجرة على تفكير بيظلمني و بيقول عليا حاجات كل اللي يعرفوني بيقولوا انها مش في…

أنا عنيدة آه، لكن مش جاحدة ولا قاسية

دماغي لما بتحجر كدة بيكون من وجعي لأن الوجع بينشفني و بيكسرني، لكن حتى وجعي عمره ما قساني مهما قلت و اتمنيت… لو كنت بقيت قاسية كان زماني قادرة أكبر دماغي و مكانش زمان قلبي بيوجعني عمال على بطال كدة

أنا آسفة جدا اني مش هادية و مهاودة و مسامحة في حقي زي غيري، بس على فكرة لولا اني كدة مكنتوش اعتمدتوا عليا كل مرة احتجتوا حد حد يشيل المسؤولية و يتصرف صح و بسرعة… و لولا اني كدة كان زماني اتكسرت من زمان و فضلت زوجة كارهة جوزها و بتشتم فيه طول ماهو مش موجود زي غيري و كان زماني بربي ولادي انهم يخافوا منه و يكرهوه و يلوموه… أنا كسرت “الباترن” اللي شفته قدامي كتير بدل ماخليه يكسرني، و بيحز في نفسي قوي كل ماسمع حد فيكم بيقول ان “لو ماكانتش دماغها ناشفة و عندية و طبعها وحش، كان زمان الولاد بيتربوا بينهه و بين أبوهم”….

أنا آسفة إنكم مش شايفيني غير كدة… لكن أنا خلاص تعبت من محاولة اثبات اني كل الحاجات التانية اللي مش شايفينها ولا هتشوفوها، لأني كل ما بحاول بفشل و ببعد عن نفسي من غير ما أقرب منكم…

و مباقتش فارقة، أنا بعدت كتير و مقربتش…

Everything is cringing with pain… the pain source is my heart, sending out ripples of pain, no, tides of random, yet somehow timed electric shocks that electrocute every cell in my body… and then, the pain subsides at my limbs leaving them totally numb…

My lungs swell wanting to burst through my ribs despite my attempts of expanding my ribs by breathing in harder through a stuffy nose and a blocked throat…

بحس ان روحي بتطلع… لكن في نفس الوقت بتحاول تكلبش فى جسمي على قد ما تقدر و ده اللي بيسبب الوجع…

The minute I start surrendering to the numbness, and feel that pain subsiding, tears start flowing and before I know it, I start fighting for air, but then the electric shocks attack me again repeating that entire cycle…

….

 ”ده مش وجعك… ده بيحصل لما بيتحدف عليكي وجع مش بتاعك و انتي بتحاولي تشيليه…

This is the kind of woman you are… you deny men their instinct to protect you because you make everyone –including yourself- believe that you’re strong enough to take it all…

انتي اللي هتشيلي الليلة!! و على فكرة يعني، دي مش ميزة فيكي… ده خازوق كبير

متصلبيش نفسك و تستني الناس تعمل منك اله…

Get off that cross ; there are no believers, and you will bleed to death…

Recognize it when it’s not your pain and reject it, and love yourself… when you love yourself, you don’t allow her to feel that kind of pain… you protect her like no one could”

 

* April 20, 2011

Take me back, please take me back…

I feel what a paper must feel after having been through a shredder… with no hope of being pulled back together to look the same as before…

I have willingly endured more humiliation than I thought I would ever allow myself to go through… I am not sure how graceful I was about it all, but I have been told I handled the humiliation and the pain that came with it with admirable grace…

But I am running out of grace and I am running out of threshold for more pain… I need to be wrapped and sheltered and promised none of this will ever happen again, none of it…

I am promising myself this right now, and I am promising you you’ll never be locked in this room or any room … you belong in my heart, just like all the other things that make me who I am, and it was a huge mistake to ask you to step aside…

It was worth it, would I do it all over again, perhaps, but never again…

So I am sorry for thinking I was stronger on my own, turns out I am too sensitive to be left without that kind of protection and no one, no matter what they claim, can provide it…

So please make that pain go away, and take me to a safe place where I can heal.

Thanks.

I know you protect me from so much pain by telling me all sorts of excuses … but what you don’t get is that you allow that pain to grow inside me  because I become too proud to show it, too proud to let it tear me to pieces so that I can put myself back together, with pride…

So, I will put you in a room and leave you there until I can handle this…

I will leave you there despite the enormous amount of pain, fear and humiliation I feel writing this…

I will leave you there hoping that by stripping from you, I shall be protected by nothing but my humanity and that it shall suffice…

I will leave you here hoping and praying that I will find you intact if my pain gets too much and I run back to you for protection…

Please unfold from around me now… but also please be there ready to wrap around me before I disintegrate and heal me.

*Written on March 13, 2011

Tagged: communication, hope, learning, life, loss, my thoughts, ouch, pain, relationships, worry ]]> http://obliviology.wordpress.com/2011/10/20/note-to-my-pride%e2%80%a6/feed/ 0 insomniac http://obliviology.wordpress.com/2011/10/19/the-spell-that-binds-my-heart/ http://obliviology.wordpress.com/2011/10/19/the-spell-that-binds-my-heart/#comments Wed, 19 Oct 2011 12:24:30 +0000 insomniac http://obliviology.wordpress.com/?p=988 ]]>

“you’re not dependent on me”

 “in a way, I am”

 “no”

 “well I am, whether you like it or not”

 “you shouldn’t be dependent on me, you’re smarter than that… you know I have issues, I’m not exactly stable”

 “it doesn’t change the fact that I am”

With that last phrase, she tried to swallow that lump in her throat as she felt that familiar pain taking over her heart.

Why does he do that? Why does he insist on reminding her of why it ended? And he had to do that at the exact same time her heart and soul were pulling her back to him!

It didn’t end because he’s “unstable” or because he “has issues”, they were both unstable and they both have issues, among the million other things they have in common. It ended because she was willing to take a chance while he wasn’t… and the mere memory of that never fails to make her heart ache the way it does every time one of those memories hit her when she least expects it.

The memory plays before her eyes all over again, his big brown eyes holding back all those tears while tears were pouring out of hers as she kept smiling to make it all look less sad… he mumbled to me “don’t do that” and she smiled even more, nodding, and mumbling back “I’m ok, we’re ok”…

And so she did what she does best, she got stubborn, she got strong, and she ran in the opposite direction betting that her feelings for him would fail to catch up if she kept on cheating the pain  by all the available distractions and by pretending their friendship is growing stronger that way… but somehow he always caught up with how he cares for her, how he supports he, and how he does all the little things to make sure she’s ok, to make sure she doesn’t dwell on any bad thoughts before she sleeps…

And she is reminded all over again… that no one does that but him… because she lets no one do it but him… he’s the one she chooses to run to when she panics because only the tone of his voice soothes her even when they talk about the same things that disturb her…

So yes, she depends on him, perhaps more than she should… he always gets her, he knows how to handle all her madness, her breakdowns, and her panics just by being him… and that’s why she was willing to take her chances and get over whatever issues she has about being with someone… because it wasn’t just “someone”, it was him…

But he’s an idiot like that, an idiot she knows is crazy about her… an idiot who’s too scared to take a chance and so he realizes “she deserves better”, and then her pride ticks and she repeat to herself that she does deserve “better”… but the sad part remains that she doesn’t want to take her chances with better…

So in her own oblivion she just depends on him to always be there to make her feel better if he can’t (or doesn’t want to) be better for her sake… and he always comes through, until he realizes that by doing so they only get closer again so he tells her to stop depending…

* Written on February 22, 2011.

Who knew it was a “lather, rinse, and repeat” and that the idiot would break her heart in a way she would never want to recover… 

I kept looking at her happily and feeling peace within…

She was asking me how I’ve been and telling me she missed me, and asking me for all the updates, making remarks about how I lost so much weight since she last saw me, how I look happier and more “me”…

I couldn’t reply, but she looked healthier and happier, much more than I ever remember seeing her… he cheeks were budding pink and her hair, her real hair was beautiful light brown and her eyes were shining…

I told her, I’d drive her home, for old time’s sake…

She said “no no”, I told her it was no trouble at all, and it will give us time for me to tell her everything… told her I could drive her to either Zamalek or Maadi and both would be on my way… for a second there she wasn’t sure where she’d go, she said she didn’t know and she’d rather wait for the driver to pick her up…

We  were walking down the street towards my car, and she held on to my arm asking me to say nothing to the girls who were waiting by a car… we approached them and I recognized some of my old co-workers as well as hers who were offering a ride because it was starting to rain, but I pointed at my car and said we were both heading to Maadi…

I begged her to come with me…

Someone was double parked and the door man of the building who seemed to have just cleaned it was rude about calling for someone to move it… I didn’t get angry, I just moved the car breaking some stuff on my way, stopped for her to get in and we moved…

The dream diverted into other meaningless dreams…

She died in May 2009, she was the second mother I had after my late nana, one more mother I never had.

Then extended to wrap around my entire body, head to toe…

And then, it’s stretched, and an electric current passes right through it…

And I shudder nonstop,

in pain.