" Electro Love. Electro Drum. Electro Sex. Electro Cum. Electro Heats. Electro Suck. Electro Beats. Electro Fuck.
I got the DJ spirit inside of me. It so feels good. It takes control of me.
I'm a Party Animal. Party Animal.
I wanna fuck your body. "
- David Guetta, Fuck Me I am Famous Podcast [September 2nd, 2007] - minute 10:54
See you there ; )
I just can't get enough
It's the feeling that I love
(Intoxicating)
I just can't get enough
(Exhilarating)
It's the feeling that I love
I've never felt, like this before
I've never wanted, lovin' more
I just want to say I need you
And it feels good when I'm with you
Can't you see
I Just can't get enough
It's the feeling that I love
(Intoxicating)
Even though I am not used to blogging about an actual event that hadn’t ended yet, I couldn’t help but letting this one out, hoping that I would really reach an inner closure that would help me move on with what had been going on and the way it evolved.
When I saw him coming online after more than a year, I haven't had in mind any clue that I would be falling that deep for him. Something about Carl's new display picture captivated my attention, and I was thrilled when he started the chat:
"Wuz up dude?", the MSN window popped up.
"Fine mate, what about you?", I answered, eagerly wanting to know more about that hot guy.
"All's cool, so ur frm Cairo?", he asked quickly.
I confirmed. He then said:
"Am coming 2moro night. Care to meet?"
As if he was asking if Winnie the Pooh loved Honey.
"Sure! When will you be here?", I asked.
"Around midnight, he said, I'll call when i'm on my way".
I was excited, just because of a picture and a simple date. I liked the way Carl sounded over the chat. His simple straight forward date and meet way was captivating. He then said:
"You know, we really need 2 hire an IT manager in our company here in Alexandria. Care 2 send ur CV?"
I was puzzled: usually -according to the local gay rules in Egypt- we tend to keep our identity unknown, especially when it comes to where we work or live; but Carl just went to the next level sending me his business e-mail, as well as the Human Resources one in order to forward my Curriculum Vitae. His simple and innocent way only made me feel wilder and more attracted to him.
The next day, as agreed, Carl called me at 11:30PM.
"Digg, I am in Master on Alex Cairo desert road. I'll be there in like an hour. Still down?"
"Yeah! I am actually in Maadi with a friend. By the time you're in Cairo I'll be done."
"Cool, see you then cute!".
Those 60 minutes flew, and I was driving to Mohandessin in order to meet him as scheduled. While driving near Mostafa Mahmoud mosque, I had that strange feeling that I will see him before I park and boy was I right. Right in front of me was his car. I kept horning and flashing the lights while calling him:
"How incredible is this? I just recognized you and I felt like we'd bump into each other before setting a place to meet!"
"Duuude!, he quickly said, that's awesome! Park here!"
When I opened my car's door, there he was waiting for me, even sexier than the pictures and more attractive than I pictured him to be: Carl was one of those guys whose pictures weren't giving him his real share in his natural sexy self.
When I got in his car, he was playing David Guetta's Sensation White 2007 track.
"So you're into House music?", I asked.
"Dude! I am totally living for House, Trance and Techno. While driving to Cairo, the beat was my companion all the way long!"
My man! I thought. He kept impressing me more and more with his little details and twists.
"You look tensed", he then said.
I was. Not only because I had a hectic day and an incident happened with the guy I was meeting in Maadi, but I felt intimidated by Carl. He had many things that I loved to acquire: the real organization between Work life and Fun life -he had the concept that I always kept in mind "work hard, party like an animal".
Recently, I had noticed how I become quickly intimidated by people who impress me. I tend to reflect the silent guy feeling -boring maybe which doesn't fit with my outgoing persona. I might relate that to the fact that I worry that the person who I see better than me in certain fields might lose interest in me if I let the inner me out. While I see that being myself is one of the unique people that might be encountered, I worry that me wouldn't match with him. I have experienced that in several dates and I became sure about it when I totally overcame the intimidated feeling, I totally change and reflect the raw, simple and talkative me.
Carl stoke me with his music, lifestyle and looks. His 212 perfume played on my strings while he scrolled his Nano, streaming the beats that he liked most. Seeing me enjoying more and more, he turned the volume up letting the drums flow from his Xplod car stereo and hitting me right in the heart of my soul. He then opened the gloves door and took out a rolled butt of hash:
"Smoke up?", he asked while handing it to me.
I hadn't smoked hash before, but I was willing to. I believe that partying not only requires alcohol, but mixture of exctacy, hash and a hot date. I gently refused, not only because it would be my first time, but I didn't see it suitable smoking in the car -what would happen next after being stoned?
He then handed me a Marlboro and lowered the sound while asking:
"So, Digg, what's up with you ya walad?".
I smiled, intimidated, then answered:
"I am feeling great! I love the music, the company, everything!"
He laughed then said:
"So, tell me more about you, boy!", I knew that this his familiar slang with his friends since he never stopped saying it even while answering the phone.
"Well, what would you like to know about me?", I asked, trying to keep the conversation alive while not sounding that boring. I really had nothing in mind to say, or; in other words, the rush of thoughts kept my tongue frozen.
"Anything about you! You ever been in a relationship before? Have you been abroad? What's your favorite food!".
I instantly thought about my ex partner. I knew I wouldn't stop myself talking and talking about how good it was, yet devastating at the end; but I had taken a promise, right after I wrote the Him series entries that I would totally abstain myself from falling in that dark pit again. I simply talked about the highlights, preventing myself from talking about lousy details.
After a few talks, he then said:
"More beat?", I nodded.
"I like this track, a bit old, but amazing!", he said while scrolling his iPod. Beats started sounding and I recognized the song. I had forgotten about it, but it stroke me hard, especially when Maya was melodically rhyming: "For the first time, you've got me baby!". He really did get me, and I was loving it.
We kept driving around, singing along and raving in the car. It felt good connecting with someone who had most of the shallow things that attracted me to anyone: the looks, the perfume, the music, the urge of living large! When we started talking about Nadia Ali, I wanted to bring my iPod from my car in order to play the awesome Recon Mix for all her songs. We parked next to my vehicle and when I played the music, Carl just laid back relaxing in his seat touching me with his crossed leg. While spinning the tracks, his warm touch started exciting me; and I was more worried that I would screw everything up with any unexpected silly move or word. I had to balance my look, attitude and even the way I moved with the music. I started doubting if I don't trust myself anymore!
It was almost 3 AM by then, and I had early work day the next morning. He touched my leg with his finger then said:
"So, boy, what are your plans for tonight?"
I looked at the clock and acted as if I didn't know the time; then said amazed:
"Shit! It's freaking late already!".
He smiled then said: "You don't have to drive back home, you know; you can spend the night with me then head to your office in the morning."
I tried finding a convincing excuse not staying, simply because I was extremely intimidated by him; and I wanted to make sure that we'd meet again. I had that obsession that if we have sex, he might never call me again; and that would really hurt me and destroy the efforts that I was invensting. I wasn't seeking for a boyfriend, neither a steady fuck buddy -but I just wanted to extend those moments; as if they will never end. I wanted to feel the rush; the excitement; the pleasure. I didn't want to screw all that with sex that would leave me broken hearted afterwards. I know my idea about dating might sound strange: things evolve from one stage to the other, yet I always wanted to freeze anything in its first stage, worrying about what would turn out later to be.
I quickly answered:
"I would have loved to, but I need to be formal and I don't have my suite with me."
"Are you sure? You can always leave an hour earlier and quickly go home. Roads will be empty by then."
I was scared. I shouldn't go home. I mustn't go home. I do not want to screw things up.
"Next time I promise you. Listen, I am coming next week-end to Alexandria! What about that? It has been a while and we'll have all our time."
He smiled; smartly, then said:
"That would be terrific!"
It was time for me to leave. I did well so far. While leaving, he tried lip kissing me, but a simple head twist made sure his kiss would land on my cheek.
Why am I complicating everything?
Like a school kid, as soon as I got home, I texted him:
Hey! It was quiet charming seeing you tonight : ) Loved the music.
Will see you this week-end in Alex then if all goes well. Hope you're cool with it : )
I waited for answer. I received none; slept holding my mobile; and woke up disappointed.
When I reached the office, he was online and initiated the chat:
"Hey dude! How r u?".
Excited, I answered:
"Great, you woke up early this morning.", I said, trying not to ask him why he hadn't answered my previous night's SMS.
"I barely slept for 2 hrs. I went home at 6 in the mornin. Was out with a friend."
I cannot quiet assure what I felt was jealousy, but more like a threat. Was he cooler than me? More entertaining? Did he enjoy his time with him more than he did with me? Is that why he hadn't texted me back?
I shook all the paranoid questions off my head then said:
"So you should be picking up your friend from the airport shortly, right?"
"Yeah, he answered, his flight got delayed a bit so i'm just relaxing on bed, stealing wireless from my neighbor!"
I smiled. He then said:
"It was so fun meetin u yesterday really. Did u enjoy it?", about time he would ask about it, comforting me.
"Yeah, I loved the music and the company", I answered, trying not to sound too excited about him.
I quickly typed:
"Wait I make reservations in Alexandria!"
"Cool", he answered.
After confirming everything I announced:
"Next Thursday I will be in Alexandria for two nights!".
He was excited about it, or at least that's what I thought then. He had to leave soon after in order to go to the airport, promising me a good time when I will be in Alex. It was Monday, and I couldn't wait. I promised back that I would call him that night to make sure he arrived safely back home in Alexandria; and he said he would be expecting.
6:43 PM - ringing. No answer. I thought he would be sleeping. I give him his excuse.
11:56 PM - ringing. No answer. Is he hibernating?
12:27 AM - I sent an SMS wondering if everything was alright. No answer.
I haven't called back; but waited for any sign. It was Wednesday night and I was worried going to Alexandria and end up, again, lonely and isolated; that time for two nights in a row.
When I reached Alexandria on Thursday morning, I just gathered my strength in order to break my pride and sent him:
"Digg is in Alexandria"; and I forgot about it. I settled a couple of dates and friends in order to pass a somehow pleasant stay there.
All day no call, no sign, no answer. I couldn't understand why he had totally changed his idea about me. I believe he had passed a good time with that single night we spent together, he admitted it himself the next morning initiating the chat with me. If I was just another boring person, he would have blocked me or had made up a million excuse not to see me on Thursday. I was sure he sounded excited when he knew that I would visit him the week-end after.
What the fuck went wrong then? It was haunting me, and eating me up. That's when he called around 8:00 PM. I waited for several rings then answered, again, hiding any emotion or feeling I had:
"Hey you! How are you?"
"I'm good dude!"
I quickly said: "I am in Alexandria!"
He answered: "Yeah, I know! Listen, what are your plans for tonight?". I jumped off the bed, while keeping the same monotonous speech:
"ummm, nothing much I believe. I am with a friend now staying for a while, then no plans later at night."
"Cool then, I am going out with my office colleagues for a shisha then, let's say, pass by you around midnight?".
"Sounds great!", I answered, bouncing with pleasure.
I spent the remaining hours with my friend, counting the minutes till the time we meet. At 10:24, he called:
"Hey boy, what's up? Still with your friend?"
"He's leaving now actually, so what's up with you, boy?", I said.
"Look, my friends here want to have a drink and smoke up a bit, I'll call you after, cool?"
After? Smoking and drinking will disconnect him. There is no after in this case! Was he canceling our outing in a smart way, then close his cell or not answer my calls like he always did and disappear? I agreed to wait after, I had no choice.
I waited for an hour, burning. I texted him then around 11:36 PM:
Mate; I am mega tired. I guess I will hit the bed now.
No answer. I wore my best shirt, locked my belt, sprayed my CK's Crave perfume and hit the bar: if I weren't going to go out with him, let the alcohol be my companion. I ordered cocktails, tequilla shots and somewhere in between, I wanted to text him again. Alcohol made my real desire pop up, and I was desperately in need seeing him again. I just phrased:
They keep fucking knocking in the hotel somewhere for renovation. Can't really sleep! Listen, call me up if you're on for something later - I might be up.
How desperate can this be? I was worse than a horny Susan Mayers, even way beyond Gabrielle Solis' lies in order to hunt a guy.
Totally drunk and off mood, I came back to my room. Slowly undressing and not even caring to change my clothes, I slipped in naked under the sheets. At 2:15 in the morning, my phone rang. Carl was still up:
"Heeeeyyy boy!", stoned, drunk he was -not better than me.
"You finally called!", I answered.
"Still up?", he asked. "Yeah", I answered. "I will be under your hotel in 5 minutes!".
I jumped in the shower, then my clothes and tried maintaining a straight walk while rushing down the 11 floors in the elevator.
There he was waiting for me downstairs in his car, with fresh beats of David Guetta.
When I got in, I could see how wasted he was; and I loved it more. He turned me on even beyond, with alcohol screwing both our logics.
He warmly welcomed me, and started driving; trying to keep the car going on one lane. He then quickly proposed having a party: the mood was set for that blast. He called his friends and were all coming to his place in Agami. Quickly; he drove us to his villa; parked, took his iPod and laptop and walked in. In less than 5 minutes, an experienced after parties host, he set everything up and the beats were rocking the area.
Everything was terrific: the music, the booze, atmosphere and most of all: the mood. Seeing him dancing me, turning me even wilder and in horrible desire to hold him close and taste his lips. Around 5 AM people left, leaving us with the music and the lust. He lowered the volume while keeping the projector on displaying some Sensation White event on the wall, hugged me on the sofa where I was sitting and softly whispered in my ear:
"Not tired yet?", I smiled and slowly tilted my head backwards to rest on his shoulder and said:
"I'm down for anything". He held my hand and massaged my back. It felt good, so good. He then said:
"So you're spending the night with me?". He then added: "I guess we're too fucked up to drive back to the hotel anyway!"
I nodded; he gently held me and while closing the laptop's lid, slowly pressed his lips against mine. Electricity went through my whole body. He touched my back; and I swooned while listening to the distant beat. He then pulled me to the bedroom, while saying: "Let's play something soft" -and by soft he played Nadia Ali.
On the bed, we both laid back. He held me; just held me tight, my head on his chest; and started talking. For over 45 minutes we just talked about many things. I let out some of my feelings regarding my ex partner, explained to him how good I was feeling and most of all, for the first time, he talked to me about his previous relationship:
"We stayed for 3 months together, he was playing me!"
I turned a bit while wondering why.
He continued: "He was in relationship with some guy; and was with me as well!"
It suddenly flashed before my eyes; I wanted to make sure that he was talking about the same person I thought he could be.
Carl kept on talking: "When he introduced me to him, he said he was his close friend. I believe he had told him the same thing. When I knew the real nature of their relation, I just ended everything. I couldn't bare the lying and deceiving he was doing. A big lie, his life."
When he told me more about the guy, I knew he was talking about the ex boyfriend of Miky, my Enigma guy. Miky told me about a similar story and I quickly related. How small the world could be? There I was, sleeping in the arms of the man who Miky hated most -and it wasn't his fault.
While talking, I was caressing his arm; and when we reached the peak, Carl moved on top of me and started kissing me softly. His experienced lips and tongue were perfectly making me burn and asking for more. His little games and our comprehensible and playful moaning were our language along with our bodies'. While undressing him and taking off my shirt, a whole sensation of comfort surrounded me. I felt right; so right. As if the universe made sure that I would be there that time, that moment, that instant enjoying him and letting all my desires out.
He was kissing my neck when he stamped a love bite. Even though I don't always like it, I wanted to keep one from him. I didn't care about what my colleagues at work would say, or even my friends. It was right; and it had to be correct all the way long. As if he knew my method, he followed the same slow undressing rate, making sure that he would let both of us discover each other's bodies in every stage: fully dressed, shirtless, without pants and letting us explore each other's bodies slowly, extending the desire and making sure that the flood of adrenaline and testosterone flood intensively in both our veins; making them in contact by our lustful kisses and touches.
If all this pleasure was a sin, I'd rather live as an atheist.
For 4 hours, we had sex, listening to the beat slowly surrounding us. Carl was good, and it was right. When we were done, he gently kissed me; and held me tight. Like an embryo, he made sure he was inside of me. Tightly, I surrounded him with my arms and legs. He slept; and I watched him sleeping till tiredness took control of my eyes; and slept.
Since it wasn't my bed, half an hour later; I woke up. Even though the blinds were shut, light was reflecting shadows in the room. For a second, I had to realize where I was, and when I felt his warm body still sticking to mine, I smiled; then slept again.
Around 11 in the morning, we both woke up by my alarm sounding in the living room. Carl smiled when he opened his eyes, stretched, then quickly went to bring the mobile to me. I quickly turned if off while dismissing the messages that I received: I didn't want to get disconnected by anything during those precious moments. I made sure I'd save shots of every thing in my mind.
"Let's go?", he proposed while stretching again on bed. I knew he had errands to do since Friday is his only day off. We quickly dressed and collected the remaining of the previous night's wild party. When I got in his car, I loved the way he looked totally fucked up and tired. When I looked in the mirror, I was worse; especially that I hadn't had much sleep at all. When he dropped me infront of my hotel; Nadia Ali's Rebel song was sounding in the car; and in my head.
"See you later, ya walad", he said while driving off.
He hadn't called me again that day; and I didn't want to call him because I didn't want the possibility that he wouldn't answer me spoil the great feeling I was having.
When I got back to Cairo, and knew about David Guetta's concert in Sharm, scheduled December 20th 2007, I quickly thought about Carl. When I was waiting for him to answer; I was hoping he would pick up.
"Hey dude!", he greeted me.
Relieved, I answered: "How are you? How is it going in Aelx?"
"It's great over here! Tell me, what are you up to?"
"So you heard about David's concert?", I quickly said, hitting right into the subject.
"No way dude! Are you serious? That would be a fucking blast!".
"Yeah; it's rocking! Listen, I already made reservations in Marriott Sharm just in case. I have two spare rooms, would you like any?", I was hoping he'd say yes; and it would have been amazing if he would stay in my room instead.
"Yeah; sound great. Listen, my cousin will be coming with me, so make it one double room for us", better than nothing, I thought.
"Deal!", and I hung up.
Three days later, I knew about Tiesto's featuring Nadia Ali and Jess concert in Sharm as well on December 2nd. After making the reservations in the hotel, I called Carl. No answer. Three missed calls, and no answer. I sent a message:
"Hey mate, call me when you get this text, I've got hot news!"
He hadn't called back; and I was disappointed. I was really wondering by then what was my situation with him: how does he see me. Who am I to him? I don't want to accept the fact that I am just another guy he slept with; yet that was the concrete truth.
The next morning, Carl was appearing offline on the MSN and initiated the talk:
"How are you, boy?".
Till when would I hide my feelings?
"So Tiesto on the 2nd!", I announced.
"Yeah", he typed, "I might go, not sure yet!"
"I've got rooms reserved just in case."
"Well; if I will go, I will be having other plans since I know the organizers"; he answered.
And the chat ended; as fast as it started.
By the following Thursday, I got a call from him:
"Three words: Marco V in Thrust", he said as I answered.
"I know! I am going mate!", I said all excited that he finally called me for the first time on his own.
"Great! I will see you there then.", he said.
While being in the newly opened club with my girl friend and a date I had fixed with him that escapade earlier; and while dancing totally wasted by the alcohol and the music, Carl called:
"We are on our way; how is it?"
I tried to yell as much as I could in order for him to hear me: "It's rocking dude! Come quickly, Marco is already spinning!".
He said something I couldn't hear. He texted me instead:
"Do you have extacy?"
I replied: "No, I couldn't arrange any and my extacy friends didn't show up!"
"I am on my way", he answered back.
While dancing on the stage with my date and my girl friend, I spotted Carl next to me. I slowly went next to him among all the drunken fellows and pinched him. He slowly turned around and when he recognized me, we hugged and motioned that the music rocks. I so wanted to tell him that everytime I saw him, he just made me fall too deep. What is wrong with saying emotions out loud? Why do we always tend to control them? Is it the fact that we are afraid to be disappointed? If so, isn't the whole life a series of disappointments that you only experience and recognize when you dare doing something and take risks? My date came closer to me and Carl looked at him in a peculiar way: I couldn't actually identify whether it was jealousy or just curiosity and wondering who that hot dude could be. He had a phone call, and went off the dance floor.
Two hours later, while walking out, I found him relaxing with his friends in the Intercon's lounge sofa. He waved at me. I quickly walked and saluted him. He said hi to my date and then said: "After party at my place! I tried calling you but your phone is off!", I took out my i-mate and found it out of charge. By that time, my date was feeling uncomfortable and had to leave. I quickly suggested that I would drive him and asked Carl to wait for me, since there was no mean of communication. He confirmed. My date insisted on leaving alone, but I couldn't do that to him, especially that he I had known him for years before but things didn't work out because 5 years ago, he had to leave Egypt and work abroad.
It took me one hour to take the car out of parking: everybody was sleeping and I was irritated as time was flying. I wanted to go back to Carl and spend the night in his After Party. While driving my date; he slowly said:
"Your friends, they look strange".
"In what way", I answered.
"I don't know, they don't look comfortable to me."
I smiled then said: "They are the party animals friends. Drugs, music, after parties, alcohol!"
He took a deep breath then said: "Could you not go to that after party, please?"
I smiled; and didn't answer. I wanted to go. Carl was mesmerizing me.
An hour and fifteen minutes later, I was in the Intercon's lobby -empty. I looked around, then looked at my dead phone; smiled and thought that my date's wish had just come true.
Even though we occasionally chat together; Carl and I, and even though I am dying to call him up -I just can't make it. Since he hadn't invited me to join him in Tiesto's concert after that my friends won't be able to make it and explaining to him that I would go alone, I might not make it after all. I believe I'd better be waiting for David Guetta's concert instead, since he will be with me in the same hotel.
What are my expectations? Very high; and that's my problem. What makes me always feeling down is the fact that I always expect very high actions from the guy that I have a crush on; instead of thinking correctly and keeping in mind that we are both enjoying the moment -and that should be enough and fulfilling.
Carl fascinated me with his lifestyle; and that's what I discovered in my journey so far: everyone I had a crush on wasn't for who he was, but for what he had that impressed me. I try to copycat it and make it mine; and once I acquire that specific point that made me fall, I just walk away. No one of my dates; including those I blogged about, made me like him as in himself. It's always something in him.
It took me a while to figure that out; and it scares me a lot.
Till David Guetta's concert day, if you happen to pass next to a car that is playing loud House music, specifically Maya's "For the first time", probably it is me; remembering how fabulous it was with Carl; and wishing that on the David's Guetta's night; I'd be having some After Party in my hotel room with Carl. I surely can't get enough of him; and I am asking for more; even though it's quiet intoxicating.
Everytime I'm with you
And everytime we meet
I just stop myself from telling you
I'm falling too deep
The way your'e walking by
And the way you caught my eye
And the way I feel so bad when we say goodbyeFor the first time
You've got me baby
As I was driving back from Maadi on the Ring Road, and right before reaching Al-Taawon Gaz Station, my cellular announced an incoming SMS. Slowly; while listening to Tracey Thorn's It's All True, somewhere while singing along We don’t need any kind of big parade, Just this once a little serenade I was reading the message. The impact of what I read was so deep; so I had to slow down to be able to read the message once more. It was from Andrew:
Hey there! How is it going, big Leo? I was just listenin' to the new J.Lo album -a song named 'brave' just reminded me of you. Listen to it. I wish to hear from you soon, though.
I put down my i-mate, picked my iPod and scrolled to Jennifer Lopez' new album. Skipped till the last song and hit play.
The second time I heard it, emotions were tearing me from inside.
I am sorry Andrew, I really am.
It's a new day, new day, and it's evident
You must have been heaven sent
Sometimes we should be hesitant, but I'm not at all
Just feelin more confident
Just using my common sense
Just trust in it, I'm lovin' it
I can't refuse an offer so benevolent
Can't assume he's gon' use me
And after he'll never call again
Don't be afraid, don't be afraid
This is your day, this is your day
It's time to be brave
Say I'm not afraid, not anymore
I used to be cold, now the temperature's changed
It just ain't the same
I'm not afraid, i'm not afraid
Cus I've become brave
As the light of day
straight into a cave
To show me the way, that I might be saved
Now I'm turning the page
Thanks to the power of love I can love
Because I am brave
I heard him say this thing moving too fast for him
It's a feelin
I was straddling
Foolishly adamant, but It's all in his eyes
Really wish he would let me in
Cus the same way I'm scared of him
I'm scared of being hurt again
It's time to let go, let go of your heart
It's time for a brand new start
Never know, we might never part
Baby don't be afraid, don't be afraid
This is your day, this is your day
It's time to be brave
Say I'm not afraid, not anymore
I used to be cold, now the
temperature's changed
It just ain't the same
I'm not afraid, i'm not afraid
Cus I've become brave
As the light of day straight into a cave
To show me the way, that I might be saved
Now I'm turning the page
Thanks to the power of love I can love
Because I am brave
I wouldn't take back anything that I've gone through (no)
I pray for strength for anything that I'm gonna do
Whether joy, or it's pain, I'm
still okay (I, I'm still okay)
I'm a be alright cause I'm not afraid
No, I am brave!
" Who can say why your heart sighs,
As your love flies?
Only time...
And who can say why your heart cries,
When your love dies?
Only time...
Who can say when the roads meet,
That love might be,
In your heart. "- Enya
Eagerly I waited for the next day's episode in order to see him. 11 sharp, the show started. I impatiently waited for the moment he would show up on screen wearing the officer's uniform and see how Ken would play his role that day. When he appeared; I quickly pressed the remote control's volume up button and listened.
As soon as the scene ended, I smiled. Not only because I was impressed by the way he played his role, but I remembered that night when he was rehearsing while were sitting in Rehab City's open air café:
"I am sorry; I just can't picture you that tough playing that role! You just look, I don't know, ya know! I can't help it!", I said right after I burst into a hysterical laughter when I heard him saying his line, "again, again, wait!".
He sat on the edge of his sofa while saying:
"Digg, you're not helping me that way! What's wrong with the way I say it?"
"Nothing really, I am sorry. It's me, not you". I took a deep breath and while holding the papers with my left hands I said:
"Ready?"
He instantly sat back, sipped some of his lemon juice, left his shisha and nodded. I looked at the papers and said:
"I come in to the police station, I scream and yell and say bla bla,...", I motioned with my hand to make him start:
"Bet2ool eeh ya ro7 ommak? El basha 3amal eeh?" [What the fuck are you saying? What did the Pacha do?].
Again, I couldn't control myself. The way he said "ya ro7 ommak" was very funny to be seen expressed on his innocent face. He never used such vocabulary and I had a hard time to imagine him being the rude and heartless police officer.
"Sorry Ken, I can't imagine you that tough! I might not be the best judge in this scenario!"
He slowly leaned next to me and whispered:
"If it weren't all these people around us; I would have shown you how tough I could be."
When the episode ended, I quickly picked my cell and dialed his number. I could hear a sleepy voice on the other end:
"You were sleeping?", I said.
"No; I just woke up. I have to meet up with my friends actually!".
"I just saw you; you were quite impressive really".
I heard him laughing then answered:
"You really think so? Did I really play it well?"
I smiled; remembering that night then answered:
"It turned out way better than what I expected to be honest! I should start watching more Arabic TV shows."
"You know what, it means a lot to me coming this from you."
I quickly changed the subject:
"How is it going now, Ken? What's new?"
He paused for a while then said:
"I'm with someone."
I paused that time. For some reason I felt bad, even though I was the one who ended any advancement in our dating back then. To hide my embarrassment, I quickly said loudly:
"That's terrific! Tell me more about him! How old is he?"
"He's around our age. Quiet a charming person, decent, cute. Actually I am feeling quiet comfortable with him."
"That's wonderful, love is in the air!", I couldn't find any cheesier answer; but this was what popped up in my mind.
He then said: "Not really, I lost faith in love, Digg."
I couldn't help but wonder: was my effect on him that bad to the extent that he became another modified version of the freaking out me?
When I hung up; after promising him to meet up for coffee, and knowing about the new movie he's starring in I lit a Davidoff and remembered the night he introduced me to his friends. I sensed that he asked them not to bring up my ex's subject but they couldn't help it. For a whole half an hour I was listening to stories, talks, attitudes and judgments regarding my ex partner. It annoyed me, but I was too curious to ask them to stop. Something in me was happy finding some people who know the insider stories about him. When Ken noticed how uncomfortable I was; he smartly changed the subject and made sure whenever they were approaching that gray area again; he'd stop them before things get any messier.
Later that night; he called me to check up on what was the impact of meeting his friends. I did my best not showing or even talking about how I felt when they brought up the forbidden topic, and even went to the deep alleys of how I wouldn't like to have sex with Ken soon because simply I might lose interest in him, and that's what I've been experiencing. I wanted to get to know him better and not fall in the just for sex trap. Ken was way better than being categorized in that area.
The next day after the friends outing, Ken passed by me and when I got in his car he said:
"Can we pass by a friend of mine quickly before hanging out?"
I nodded and looked at him. In amazement, I smiled and then exploded in laughter when I saw his shirt. Ken went from a healthy tanned skin tone to a deep red one while smiling in embarrassment. There, right on the middle of his white shirt, in big letters written in maroon:
NO SEX PLEASE!
And right under it in smaller font:
Unless You Know Me Better
The 'cheesiness' was to the extent of a family pack of Chester Cheetos and a quadri fromage, stuffed crust cheese burst Pizza serving. While I felt very happy that he cared, in his way, about every single word I said; I was worried on how he saw things evolving between us. I asked him where he got that shirt from; he answered, still with blushing cheeks:
"I ordered it printed in City Stars shop".
Could he be any more caring?
He stopped somewhere in Demashq Street and asked me to wait for a couple of minutes. I took out my pocket PC and was writing down what I had in mind about Ken that night when he knocked on the car's side window. I looked and there he was holding a wonderful flowers basket. I was confused, not knowing whether to step out of the car, look at the flowers and the barely visible "No Sex" sign or look around me, try to dart people's eyes looking at the funny scene they were witnessing. I lowered the glass, held the basket and was certainly speechless. What was wonderful that night not the shirt, the flowers, the outing or the soundtrack that I mentioned loving and he prepared, Aladdin's; but it was the time that he had spent thinking and planing for all that in order to impress me; even if I felt awkward; annoyed or childish. Ken really wanted to make me think and feel differently about him.
Months were passing, and I was in love with the way he was making me feel; the care, interest, emotions and the kissing. I had butterflies whenever he made me share his intimate moments, asking my opinion about his work and asking me to help him studying his script. Ken did his best to make me feel right and safe; but he couldn't really know how to control his negative emotions towards my ex partner ("him" series).
For some reason; we always started our cuddling and flirts while driving back either from his rehearsal sessions, studio or one of the distant cafés where we used to hang out. All along the way back home; Ken used to hold my hand, and never hesitated stamping a tempting warm kiss on my lips. His daring way in expressing his feelings out there was turning me on, and I was loving it more because I felt like being the one for a relatively known personality. The fact that I was hanging out with him and being the person who supported him all along his way boosted my self confidence that was falling deep down the ground. Ken always had the special something in everything he used to do that drove me crazy: whenever he picked a place to eat, he would mysteriously take me to that restaurant that I always like; or would take me to a new place that would totally go with my taste.
Ken couldn't control one thing: in the back of his mind, he always felt in competition with Mostafa, my ex partner. In every moment he felt he had something to say about him, or a story to tale regarding a certain action he did, he couldn't help himself. I raised his eagerness in feeding me with more and more stories because of my inner thirst for knowing even more and more about Mostafa. Ken was actually my Hermes; carrying a lot of the missing puzzles that I needed to finally see the big picture of what I have been going through. I couldn't really determine whether I really fell for Ken only for the fact that he was an attractive successful devoted in his feelings young actor, or he had the missing magical serum that I needed to ease my pain and heal my wounds.
But I was wrong.
The more he was telling me, the more my mind and soul were getting poisoned. Now, I can totally see that every time he thought he was taking one step forward towards me, answering all my desired questions and curiosities, I would run a mile on the other direction. I couldn't accept the fact that he had given himself the full authority and privilege of denouncing all the negative actions of my ex boyfriend, and judging him on top of it:
"You won't believe what happened two weeks ago", he said while driving on Merghany street.
I lowered the car stereo and answered: "What?"
He had a side smile, and said: "Mostafa went to Sharm al Sheikh with his brother and friends. They were staying in one of his brother's friends chalet all together. Your ex had a date, brought him into that house and he was that close to be caught by his brother and friends while having sex!"
Like one of those moments of truth, or the few seconds before hitting the floor when someone falls from the 10th floor -everything flashed before my eyes: I imagined him sleeping with others, cheating on me, lying right at my face and making me believe fantasies just to reach his goal, anger and rage grew in me.
Ken kept talking: "What kind of sick person who does that? That was not his place to act like this! How could he have almost embarrassed his brother even before doing that to himself?"
... and I exploded. I barely remember what I said, but I can certainly remember Ken's reaction: he parked next to Saber in Al-Hegaz street and, with deep red teary eyes, he asked me to step out of his car. I stormed out and drove my car home swearing that I wouldn't talk to him anymore.
One week passed; and I saw him online:
"Hey Ken, how are you?"
He took a while typing and erasing text then I read:
"Fine. You?"
I quickly typed: "I am sorry for what happened the other day; but apparently I am not over what happened yet, and I couldn't hear you judging my ex that way. Nobody would ever really know him the way that I did."
He typed back:
"It's okay Digg. Things are too fucked up between both of us anyway. I've been always trying to impress you in different ways but you were always half pleased. You simply played and used me to get over your break up."
I couldn't answer. Was it real? Was he my rebound guy? Did I really make him pay the sins that my previous relationship made me carry? Or simply, he came my way in the wrong time and circumstances?
Today ...
After the call and knowing about his latest script and movie in production, as well as his boyfriend; he simply moved his memory inside of me. I have been wrong to Ken, I admit it, but not on purpose. Many of those moments that I spent with him were really genuine and I felt real happiness inside of me. Ken was the first person who made me remember how butterflies should feel like -but time wasn't in our favor. Our friendship had been revived because both of us really did share many things, and I intend to keep it right this time; even though we only poke each other from time to time.
I had to push Ken away. My addiction to my previous relationship would have been always blinding me and would always remain covering my real feelings towards him. I will always use Ken as my bridge to fix myself; a cocaine that I will always require whenever I need to ease my pain. In Ken's case precisely; I would be taking more than giving; ruining any chance for even a decent long lasting friendship for both of us.
K, Happy Birthday. I wouldn't need a blog entry to tell you
how I feel towards you; you already know it by now.
Since Ramadan is the time when Middle Eastern TV kicks with endless shows, series and cheesy entertainment programs; I was wandering around the channels having an idea about what is rocking bottom this year when I came across a scene that froze me: there he was, a guy in an officer's uniform knocking on some family's door. I waited for the scene to change in order to see the cop's face; he looked so familiar.
After the never ending advertising break; a certain 20 something female opened the door and I could see the agent's features: it was Ken. I smiled, and listened to the conversation he was having with the young girl's father. The same deep voice I fell for over the phone, the same warm tone that made me thrive; coming out from well formed lips that I loved kissing and biting. Seeing him on TV made me remember those fall nights when we used to date; and I loved every single moment and feeling I had with him. Even though I was harsh at the end, I couldn't deny the fact that I still have some feelings inside of me; and I assume he has the same -otherwise; why would he be keen on contacting me every time there is any occasion just to wish me a happy one.
When we first chatted together; I never cared about knowing him: he never displayed his picture nor maintained an attractive chat flow. Ken was keeping a certain annoying anonymous aura around himself. Even though I sensed a certain vibe in the way he used to express himself with in that MSN window, I couldn't really understand the real him; and I didn't even care.
A couple of months later, and because I was very stubborn and boring in chats, he decided opening his cam and, for the first time, letting me see him. A smile and broad shoulders greeted me; when he moved the lens up to show me his face, he typed:
"Do I look familiar?"
I kept looking at his dark hair, wide dark brown eyes and his perfectly well shaped lips then answered:
"Am I missing something?"
I could almost hear him laugh in the mute video stream and read:
"Well; I was in a couple of TV series and movies. Some people recognize me!"
I blushed, artificially thanks to the emoticon, and quickly replied:
"I am sorry, I am not an Egyptian movies and series follower; but I get your point. You're a Star!"
Again I saw him laughing then typed:
"Not that much, just a few roles; luckily in major movies and TV shows though."
I liked his naive way of telling me that he's some star while trying to be modest. I smiled, again with an emoticon, and said:
"Maybe I should watch some of your work then, I'd certainly like seeing you in motion!"
"Why not in real?"
I stopped for a while; then realized that I wasn't really ready for meeting people yet; plus the awkwardness I felt because he's some sort of an actor made me feel uncomfortable. Was it because I always demand being me the one under the spot? Might be, or just because I was recovering from my relationship and wasn't ready to annoy one more person with my twisted talks. I quickly suggested exchanging phone numbers, that would rescue the negative answer to his question.
Two months passed with daily phone calls. He always tried meeting me, and I always had an excuse that I believed it was real before convincing him it was impossible. Certainly shopping for my cat isn't a good one since he already had two kittens and a dog, and wanted to join me in my tour; or one of those nights when he called me up, knowing that I was in the Gym:
"Digg, I was walking my dog when I found myself right under your Gym. Are you there yet?"
I quickly came near the wide glass and looked downstairs: there he was standing with his dalmatian and holding his cell phone; waiting for me to answer. I was confused; not only I looked in a mess for a first time meeting, but I was worried seeing him and things go wrong right before even knowing each other. He looked nice, wearing the attractive red cap that I commented on earlier and holding the cutest dalmatian dog ever. I wanted to jump down the stairs, salute him and just walk around with the dog; but I simply couldn't.
"I am in the middle of my training. My coach will kill me if I leave now!". That was half true, but at least real.
"Oh, never mind. I am sure we'll get the chance meeting again soon."
When we hung up, I was wondering what made him do all this for me, the stranger MSN guy who refuses meeting and hiding all the time? Was I worth a fake dog walk, a call and a rejection? I couldn't help but wonder: how desperate can we become when it comes to a potential, even very weak possibility, of meeting a good guy?
Ten minutes and ten counts of a rather painful biceps exercise, I just grabbed my cell phone and texted him: "I am sorry for not being able to meet you. You looked very cute in the red cap!". A couple of minutes later, my mobile announced: "What about Jeff?". I quickly typed: "The hottest dalmatian I could see!". I smile, and continued my exercise, thinking about how good he looked downstairs; flattered as well, that he made up all this just to see me.
When I was over with my training, I called him up while driving back home. I apologized once more for my rather disappointing attitude and decided that it was about time meeting him. It was obvious that he won't be putting himself one more time in that situation, if not even ending the whole date idea. I even had the guts telling him why I was pushing the meeting time as much further as possible:
"You see, Ken, it's just I feel really not that self confident after my break up.", I held myself from talking about how low my self esteem is, how deeply broken I was to the extent that I saw everyone out of my league; that I didn't have a chance with him, the Star. He just answered, after a pause:
"Digg, since you have mentioned your previous relationship, was he Mostafa?"
I hit the breaks and parked. That was his name, how could he have guessed? Did he know him? Was this a game? Why did he wait till now in order to tell me about it?
"What?", I said, trying to fill the sudden silence that was between us over the phone.
"I am sorry for mentioning this, but I sensed during all our talks how broken you are, and from the slight hints I could gather, and of course your nickname, I was wondering if that was you."
I couldn't understand why I felt a block of ice melting down my spine, or that strange numb sensation in my stomach that kept growing, forming a ball in my throat that prevented me from neither thinking nor answering comprehensibly. I just asked:
"How did you know?", as if the reasons he had just told me weren't accepted by my tormented mind.
"I told you, I guessed, plus there aren't many Digg in Cairo!".
I lit a Marlboro lights then answered:
"Apparently you know about me more than I had thought."
He quickly answered, trying to fix what he had just bombed:
"Digg, listen, to be honest with you I knew Mostafa for a while. In fact we were best friends for a while. We were so close to the point that he used to introduce me as his brother!" I couldn't help but remember the fight that I had with Mostafa, when he told me he was seeing some Star and I doubted the real kind of their relationship.
He kept on talking: "Actually it was fun, till he started talking about you. He was carrying that much amount of negative feelings towards your persona to the point that I was wondering if anything that he said was true: he had no reason to hate you that much, in fact, nobody had any valid reason to hate another person the way he used to talk about you. I started doubting whether what he used to say was real, in terms of how fucked up that relationship was and even if he ever hated you in the first place. It was just a matter of time to understand the real him: a liar, manipulator and cheap. He stabbed me in the back and now, we just don't stand seeing each other. Digg, I must tell you, he is really sick that guy. When we talked together, I saw myself how wonderful you are. He's such a fool letting you go."
I was smoking nervously while he was talking over my cell phone, when he finished, I just found myself saying:
"Ken, you have NO right talking like this about him. The guy you just criticized used to be my partner, and I would never allow anyone speak this way about him in front of me."
He excused, but I hung up; and never answered him again.
... at least for the following week.
A flood of SMSs, eMails and MSN messages: I felt bad. Not for not answering Ken, but for being under Mostafa's spell till that moment. I called him up, and again, I was shocked how important I was to him even though we hadn't met before. I just said one word when he answered:
"Let's meet now."
Thirty minutes later, I was under his house. He walked down and I could finally see him closer; as well as he. Ken sat next to me in the car and quickly said: "Finally we're here! It took me all this time and problems to see you!"
I smiled, offered him a cigarette that he rejected, then I said:
"I am sorry for being that rude with you, it's very complicated when it comes to talking about my relationship, I know it's my trigger key for insanity and you just broke it."
He wanted to talk about it again, but I just hushed him.
"Please, let it go, so I have to."
That night; we just started discovering each other; and I knew much about myself.
" When it comes to life and love, why do we believe our worst reviews? " -Carrie Bradshaw.
For some reason, we always give a little extra care for our image. I am not talking about how you would look like this week-end clubbing, but the picture that others form about us whenever we are exposed to a certain event, to be more precise: when we get reviewed, silently, by other people when it comes to our love life, personal one or professional aspect. We always tend looking for what is being negative in us, what is being spread amongst the others and not for the sake of fixing ourselves, but I believe it is much more simpler than this: we always want to be perfect, no matter what, to have a better chance in whatever catch that might be just right the next corner.
I can't help but think: do we really care about others opinions? If so, why do we actually tend to follow stupid, pointless and empty targets that we believe they might be the right choice while all our entourage says it is not? Do we always look for the forbidden pleasure or is it the big drama queen that haunts us, gay guys, and always wants to make us feel betrayed, cheated and miserable after any love story that we might fall in? When it comes to falling in love, why don't we think about falling out of it?
Even though I sometimes regret talking about my previous relationship, giving out details that should be kept private between only the two of us, I had the guts writing about the break-up moment out loud in my blog -not only how it ended, but I went further back in time and wrote about our first moments together. He might come across those entries, and the entire blog; but I am certain I wouldn't feel a pinch of regret about what I wrote; songs I picked and the time I spent thinking about him, while typing, driving, talking or bugging my friends asking about his news. I can't help but comparing myself to Carrie when she went all cuckoo wondering what people were thinking about her break up with Aidan. Although the reviews that I get about my previous love relationship are totally in my favor, I can't help myself thinking: what about those who are on his side? Are they saying negative things about me as well, making him feel how wonderful it is that we ended whatever we shared together? Or is it, again, the drama queen in me talking? Only one true fact remains intact and concrete: he would never, ever, in his entire life find a guy who loved, respected and cared about him the way I did. Let's face it -nobody would be that much into him to the extent that he would dedicated a blog, entries, lines, tears and the past two years for him. Sometimes I envy him; for finding the love that was offered, unconditionally.
"The only way to heal from this obsession that you are carrying engraved deep inside your soul is simply forgiving yourself before forgiving him", that's what I have been told by a friend who suddenly popped up in my life after almost 5 years of no talks. He called me up one of those nights just to tell me that he had finally met my ex partner.
All along the past two years, I have always been too judgmental and tough on myself concerning how things went with him. Not only that, but blindly and foolishly I have applied that character of his and the whole attitude to all guys I was chatting with, started pointlessly dating and of course ended with them just because I imagined myself in the same scenario again. People are not replicas from one another, that's what I should keep in my mind whenever I feel a feeble attraction towards someone. Alfie's giggle and making out is totally unique, Ewan's romance cannot be compared to anyone else's I met exactly like the love I gave to Mostafa, my ex, cannot be duplicated. Why do I always think that Loving again is unfair for the first one's love? Actually each and every love should be neither replaced nor compared to the other. Mostafa's place in my heart and soul shall remain untouched forever decades that would come, simply because he was my first true one.
Many times I broke hearts, unintentionally, because of my bouncing attitude of restraining myself from starting (and letting be) any feeling evolve. Even though I seem like giving the green light at first, because of my more or less friendly way of breaking any ice, my orange and red lights quickly alternate when things might get more intimate. The moment that I feel good and relaxed towards someone, I suddenly start looking for the negative thing in him: I do my best convincing myself that this person cannot be the one, and if he doesn't have an apparent problem, I might make up one, believe it and use it as my alibi to runaway. How fucked up is that?
Whoever had been in a relationship before should learn one thing and has to keep it in his mind forever: being in state of Love is a blessing; if you have experienced it, you are lucky enough to feel, life and enjoy that feeling. Many others lived and died without experiencing it. By all means, you are a winner knowing how delightful that feeling is. It's up to you keeping it safely locked inside or distorting it by building walls and demolishing bridges that might lead to another feeling of joy.
I have been talking many times about my ex partner, let me wrap this subject forever and for always: H, I loved you and still love the person I was with for those precious three years no matter what you say/lie; it's just about time to let you go; and forgive myself as well.
I won't believe the negative review when it comes to you anymore; because I know I did my best, because I simply loved.
" There was a game we used to play
We would hit the town on Friday night
And stay in bed until Sunday.
We used to be so free
We were living for the love we had and
Living not for reality
Just my imagination. Just my imagination. It was."
"Love isn't happiness, since it is a human feeling. Those feelings are very changing and ending. Happiness can be found in simple moments, a ray of light in winter, sitting with a close friend on a sunny morning having coffee or simply, listening to music that moves you." - Samer.
ACT I
When I first saw Him, I knew He was the one.
At least my imagination drew that to me.
When I first met Mostafa, wearing His white shirt and black water proof pants in Marriott's Bakery al Hegaz street, my 19 years old heart pushed extra shots of blood mixed with fresh adrenaline into my veins. I loved the way he smelled, walked, talked, smiled, turned, glimpsed and drank his Turkish coffee that he had ordered fifteen minutes earlier. When he felt a little bit more comfortable, he looked at me with his dreamy eyes and said:
"I am half Turkish, just like this coffee!"
I smiled, although it was a cheesy way that he used to announce his ascendance, I simply loved it. He was magical, and I fell under his spell. I slowly picked a Merit cigarette and answered:
"That explains your looks", I quickly grabbed my smokes pack and offered him one. He moved back while saying:
"No, thanks. I don't smoke. Enough both my parents do, I have plenty of tobacco in my blood. I'd rather see you stopping it as well."
I slowly inhaled the smoke and answered while blowing it out, vainly trying to form a circle:
"I like smoking."
We both went silent, sipping the hot drinks we were served. When I felt that silence was becoming heavier, because of my comment, I said:
"It was so coincidental the way we met the other day. To be honest, when I asked you for a picture on ICQ and you answered saying that you don't have one but you look sexy, I wasn't interested in you. I was like: what a smug!"
"And what do you think now?", he asked when I looked down at my Cappuccino mug.
"Quiet interesting. Charming, to be precise".
Now, I am sure that this would have charged his ego to its extreme, if I could understand back then the smile that he drew on his innocent face.
He started telling me about his family and cousins. He spoke so casually about them as if I already knew them. When we felt bored and that the café's walls were too narrow for us and being followed by the bored Sunday morning waiters, we paid the check and left.
As we were heading to his car, I noticed how inappropriate I looked next to him: back then I had that girly slutty attitude that I acquired from the entourage that I used to hang out with. I tried controlling my gestures and not swinging the small Gucci bag I was carrying.
While he was driving, he inserted Mariah Carey's tape and her exceptional voice was explaining how she was wishing to spend just one more night with her beloved one, she would risk her life just to feel his body, she would give her all. I couldn't typically relate to the song back then, but I loved the music, sadness and deep passion in the song.
"I had to slow dance that song with a girl friend of mine", he slowly said while looking at me, "I always wished I would dance it again with a guy". The idea of holding him close to me and feeling his body's touch and warmth was turning me on, while giving me a cozy feeling that I was missing and needed so much.
Soon after the song ended, his phone rang: his sister wanted him to pick her up, and that was when I was supposed to leave for that day, with all the dreams, imagination and anticipation I was having in my adolescent mind and heart. Everything tasted beautiful when I was home: music, lunch, the sun, and watching my ICQ waiting for him to come online while making sure that my cell phone is on to receive his call.
Our conversation later that night still sounds in my ears: his voice, tone and promises I felt in his conversation made me open up my heart and wish he'd be my keeper instead of all those empty barriers and filthy one nights that used to feed me.
Slowly, but surely we both were approaching each other with our daily phone calls, SMSs and innocent rush. Whenever we hung up, I was waiting for our next phone call to be showered with his words and drowned in his warmth.
Two weeks later, even though I didn't want to, I traveled with my friends to the Northern Coast and made sure he would know about it:
"Hey sweet, sorry for waking you up; I just wanted you to know that I am on my way to Marina".
"Oh, how long will you stay?", he asked me between two yawns.
"I am not sure, but three days max. We just started moving", I said while looking through the car's window at the faint morning lights, mixed with the fresh morning Cairo's humid air.
"Call me when you're there, okay?", he said with his deep sexy tone.
I called, no answer.
ACT II
Eight months elapsed, and no single phone call, SMS or even online: Mostafa just vanished. Many nights I spent thinking what could have been gone wrong, many hours I stayed staring at my ICQ list waiting for him to come online, a hundred unanswered missed calls on his mobile, thousands of lost SMSs and one broken hearted me. Foolishly I rushed into an insignificant short termed adventure with Mahmoud, during which I couldn't keep my thoughts away from Mostafa.
Mahmoud and I were shopping one day for CDs when my phone rang. As I took it out and looked at the screen, I froze. The tune kept announcing the call, vibrating my hand, mind and soul. Unfocused, I answered:
"Mostafa?"
I heard his "Allô?", and my heart started beating, with anger. I couldn't find anything to say, yet a thousand questions were rushing in my mind. I shook them all off and chilled enough I asked:
"How are you?"
I am alright, thank God, how is it going with you?"
I looked at Mahmoud and answered: "I am okay." I took a deep breath then asked: "Where have you been?"
A moment of silence that passed like eternity when he answered:
"I want to see you. Next Friday, at midnight. Is it convenient?"
I couldn't but agree.
ACT III
"There is a game I like to play
I like to hit the town on Friday night
And stay in bed until Sunday
Well always be this free
We will be living for the love we have
Living not for reality."
11:30 PM, my cell phone announced an incoming SMS. My anticipated eyes quickly rushed reading it: "Remember Cinderella?". I was with a friend when I excused and went home, waiting for him to come over. Midnight sharp, there he was with his black car waiting for me downstairs. I ran down the escalators, in great need seeing his face after a 8 months thirst.
Perfumed, stylish with a wide smile, he greeted me. Confused, irritated with eager heart, I stamped a kiss on his cheek. He drove a couple of blocks away and parked. He started talking about how things were going, how he wanted to call me but lost my number because he erased it and how happy he was when he got it back from our chat history.
"Erased?", I quickly asked.
"Yeah. I had this incident at home soon after the day you traveled. My dad picked up the phone while I was talking to some, you know, gay friend."
I had my eyes wide open, trying to think what could his father have heard.
"He told me that I've been followed by the Police, that they know that I am fag and I would be arrested if I don't take care."
"Shit!", I mumbled, "and what happened?"
He smiled then said: "Nothing, when my gran'ma came this fall, dad told her that he faked all this story to scare me!"
"Shit! Shit!"
"Yeah, that's exactly what I said, along with a lot of other vocabulary!", he said while sitting more comfortable in his car seat, inviting me touch him all over, but I held my desire. I had too much anger inside of me to be melted away with a simple touch.
"Why you couldn't tell me that? Do you know how I felt?"
"Digg, I erased all numbers from my phone, removed MSN, deleted porn on my PC and remained in my room, trembling every time the door bell rang, every phone call and each suspicious person walking beside me in the street. It was a nightmare. I hate my dad for this, I really do."
I couldn't but softly pass my finger through his hair. I could imagine all the fear he had during that time, especially with all the news we used to read in every newspaper in town.
"Hey!, he quickly said, what about a round in Korba area?"
ACT IV
"There was a time I used to pray,
I have always kept my faith in love
Its the greatest thing from the man above.
The game I used to play,
I've always put my cards upon the table
Let it never be said that I'd be unstable.Just my imagination. Just my imagination. It was."
A couple of months followed and we had our fixed Cinderella time: Friday at midnight. We talked, flirted, kissed and silently drew our future. Our passion started growing in our young hearts and it was totally controlling my mind and senses. I so wanted to do it right with him.
It was in May when we decided planing our first trip. I booked in Hilton Dahab for 10 days and we had the silent agreement of taking it all to the next level. All along the way to Sinai, we would steal a moment or two holding each other's hand, cuddling in the bus' back seat and talking about how we would plan our days.
As soon as we checked in, we hit the bed. Tired, I slept hugging him. Around sunset, and when we both started waking up, our thirsty lips crossed. Passionately, slowly, deeply and boldly we kissed for hours, making sure we would engrave every second in our memory. My fast heart beat mixed with his deep breathing were forming a wild and raw physical instinct and crave for more and intense desire.
Sweating, we slowly started undressing the few clothes we were wearing in that hot summer evening. Enormous passion in discovering each other's body and applying the almost a year hidden desire in action were controlling our actions. If I compare the amount of horniness I was expressing in that night, I would have summed all the other nights I spent with all my dates and multiplied it by a thousand to reach that level. There was something about his smell, skin, naked body, lips and my desire that made loads of Adrenaline and basic instinct flood intensively in my almost trembling body, communicating its vibes into his, melting our souls and fusing our future.
10 days of amazing sex, wonderful moments and most of all, a fake illusion of future security. I was his, and he was mine.
At least for the following three years.
If you, if you could return
Don’t let it burn, don’t let it fade
I’m sure I’m not being rude
But it’s just your attitude
It’s tearing me apart
It’s ruining everythingAnd I swore, I swore I would be true
And honey so did you
So why were you holding her hand
Is that the way we stand
Were you lying all the time
Was it just a game to you
But I’m in so deep
You know I’m such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger
Oh, I thought the world of you
I thought nothing could go wrong
But I was wrong
I was wrong
If you, if you could get by
Trying not to lie
Things wouldn’t be so confused
And I wouldn’t feel so used
But you always really knew
I just wanna be with you
And I’m in so deep
You know I’m such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger
- Linger, the Cranberries.
He stopped my car and asked me driving it instead. We switched places and while I was moving, he reached for my iPod and I could hear the clicking sound by the device scrolling in my music library. He stopped wheeling and clicked. I could almost hear him having a deep breath then faintly, he said while reaching this time for my trembling hand, holding it tight and said: "Digg, I dedicate this song to you".
He raised the volume, and I listened ...
The sun is going down on me
As she surrenders to the sea
So steal the night and fly with me
I'm calling, I'm calling
The moon is high on me and you
Is my message breaking through?
Darkened skies that once were blue are falling
So hear me now
Calling out your name
Burning on the flame
Played the waiting game
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
(Forever and ever)
Through distant lands and mountain streams
My river's running through your dreams
There's an ocean in between
Forever and never
Chasing shadows through the years
I whisper softly to my dear
Be sure to know that I am here
Forever
So hear me now
Calling out your name
(A wish that could come true)
Burning on the flame
(I'm reaching out to you)
Played the waiting game
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
Whispers in the air
I dream you into life
Here a lover's prayer
I pray for you tonight
I can feel you there
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
No man is an island
That's an empty sin
Discovery is a journey
Just have to let me in
Calling out your name
(A wish that could come true)
Burning on the flame
(I'm reaching out to you)
Played the waiting game
Calling out your name
(A wish that could come true)
Burning on the flame
(I'm reaching out to you)
Played the waiting game
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
Whispers in the air
(I dream you into life)
Hear a lover's prayer
(I can feel you there)
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
No man is an island (A wish that could come true)
That's an empty sin (I'm reaching out to you)
So steal the night and fly with me
I'm calling
Hear my calling
- Calling -Geri Halliwell
"Looking back at all the previous posts; I noticed how exposed I am: naked, but not in my bed room. I dated men and never had the guts to show them my blog: I felt that they would be having the privilege of knowing too much en excès about my personal little details; I even denied linking myself to the blog when I was asked." -Digg, So Far - [intro]
Only a couple more days to go, and the clock would announce; not sure whether happily, doubtfully, sadly, ironically or something else; my birthday.
Again, I would hang out with Shatz and Samer, drink and dance the night away, fall in a couple of surprise parties where I have to act totally blown away. I would gracefully smile at my friends' faces, thank them deeply and wonder: how deep have I affected their souls? How really important is this day to them?
Would it be much different if I shared it with a life partner? Or is it better me partying, a single 20 something guy, alone; with shiny eyes reflecting lust, sadness and a psycho touch of deep happiness that I am alive?
How would it have been if I tried applying much weight on the relationship concept with Miky?
After the naive love I felt for him, his kisses that flew me high in the skies; and attitudes that crushed me down on earth, I took a deep breath and gave a deep thought about it: what if the great guy picture I drew was just a projection of light that I projected over his real character? What if Miky wasn't really who I wanted him to be? Maybe that was why I was always shocked when he acts in a way that I couldn't understand.
In fact, after the drinks we had in Deals and the infamous try-to-kiss-me, I tried acting dumb; at least during the whole following month. I tried shifting my thoughts till that night, while cruising Jardino, I met Amir:
"Digg, sweetie how are?"
Even though I knew how hypocrite he is, I faked my usual smile and answered:
"Good. How is it going with you, Amir? Heard about your new job!"
"Yeah; don't remind me! My new manager is gay! What's up with this country? Everyone is turning fag!"
I slowly nodded while looking at the car passing next to me and slowing down. I couldn't help but wonder: was he checking me out, or were I seen as who is that guy stopped by the bitch?
After a bunch of pointless talks; fake laughs and a couple of cars flashing, Amir said:
"There is that someone I am dating these days. He thinks he's being smart with me, but I am waaaay much harder than what he thinks!"
I was interested, not by he fact he was dating someone, but that there is still someone out there who doesn't know the real slutty him!
I asked: "Tell me more about him. Is he cute?"
After a couple of details, I was hearing Miky's description. I tried to swallow this huge ball that I felt in my throat, I couldn't. How could he date all those bitches? Had he already forgotten about Tamer, the Black Widow? His ex, the whore?
Am I too invisible to be seen?
I stopped talking to him; I still have some dignity.
* * *
I am sure when I will be mixing my Martini drink while celebrating my birthday, I will remember Alfie; with his sweet giggle and our trip together. I will remember how smoothly I felt between his arms, how right it was while kissing him, and how ecstatic it was while having sex.
Even though I never said "yes" verbally, I couldn't deny missing him and actually saying it out loud. He called me after a while; checking on me. When I saw his name on my phone, I froze for a while; then took a deep breath and answered:
"Hey you!"
At the other end I could almost picture him smiling while leaning on the phone:
"You never called me since that day".
I couldn't find the right words to answer him, but I surely had a lot to say. Whenever I picture Alfie, I just remember his tender lips and soft touch.
"How is work?", he asked.
I replied, as I always do but distantly thinking about seeing him; so I quickly answered:
"I am coming now... we're having coffee together", before he had the time to answer, I was already hanging up and getting ready.
When I saw him, he was always as attractive as last time I saw him, which he emphasized:
"Yaaaah! I sooo miss you!", he said while hugging me.
I squeezed him so close to me and we just sat down and talked, talked about everything. He had his way in making me surrender. Was it his ultimate innocence? Deep hypnotizing eyes? Or is it the breathtaking glamour that he has?
"Digg, he said after finishing our third coffee, you must see my new Beemer!" In fact, it has been a while I was following his new beloved and customized new BMW!
While driving him back home, I gently moved my hand over his, and felt the electricity going up my arm, down my spine and echoing in my brains. He giggled his sexy giggle and said:
"Long time, Digg; it has been long time!"
He squeezed my hand and leaned a bit next to me; giving me hints about my car, his car, and making me smell his slight perfume mixed with cigarette and my car's AC.
We are still in touch till this very day, and who knows, maybe I will have another adventure with him soon.
* * *
While driving back home on my birthday night, drunk and loaded with confused emotions; I will remember Ewan; my greek god. Even though I knew that the last time I would be in contact with him would have been that night I drove him to Cairo International Airport in order to catch his plane, and even though I knew that the kiss I had in the street in front of his parents that night would be craziest thing I would have ever done; I had a slight sensation that his story wouldn't be over.
While waiting for Samer on one of our Thursday nights, my phone rang. It was him, with his glorious strong tone announced his name: Ewan. For the fist time, I was speechless, with an empty head: absolutely nothing. Void. I then realized how rude it was, being silent.
"Where are you, mate?", I answered while remembering the local number that appeared on my cell.
"In the airport. I remembered you while being here!"
While I thought he had just landed in Egypt, he turned out to be just leaving it.
"I couldn't call you earlier, Digg. I wanted to, but couldn't!"
Were I too much to face?
I lit a cigarette then answered: "What matters you are alright.. what have you done about the.. thing?"
"I couldn't do it.. even though I walked into the Church!"
Many things he couldn't do; but he had the possibility to capture me, mind and soul.
"What matters is that you are alright, aren't you, Ewan?"
He confirmed, then, while hanging up, expressed how much he misses me and hoped I could understand why we couldn't meet while he was here.
... I really didn't understand why; but I knew that that would have been the last contact between both of us.
Yes, it was.
* * *
If Samer happens to suggest passing by Harry's pub on my birthday, I will surely laugh and remind him with the funny incident that happened while we were with Wael and Amgad. We would make fun of how fake their lives were and I would surely tell him about what happened afterwards.
I will start my talk asking him if he was still in touch with Amgad, especially after he was trying to hit on him right after he broke up with Wael. I will ironically laugh and tell him how cheap Wael became, living in the house of a 50 something years old guy and hanging out with all those cheap feather fags.
I will mention the mail that Amgad sent to Wael; pretending to be a Police Officer, threatening to arrest him and warning him that he was under surveillance. I will talk about the dirty ways Egyptian fags are following, we'd surely show our disdain, then we'll just forget about them.
* * *
Even though it would have been 2 years since my break up, I will remember Him. I would surely feel weird in my stomach, not because I miss Him; because apparently I don't anymore, but because I haven't heard about Him for a while. With every SMS I would be receiving, I would be hoping that He would be wishing me happy birthday. Even if He sends me an SMS, I wouldn't feel comfortable. I would feel worried and disgusted.
Do I still love Him? He has indeed changed my whole life and vision regarding relationships, but is He that routed and combined into my soul to the extent that I can't differentiate myself, my though and His impact on me?
* * *
Soon, my ID, gayDar, ManJam and other profiles' account will increase the right digit in my age by one.
I lay back and think: I am so lucky to have Samer, Shatz, Salmos and many many other terrific friends in my life. I might not be that lucky when it comes to love matters; but their existence is quiet balancing mine.
Cheers!
