" 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.
