:: Him (Prelude)

" 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 everything

And 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.

:: Calling

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

:: So Far - [Outro]

"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!