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:: Delirium

“Give me release.
Witness me.
I am outside,
give me peace.

Passion choke the flower,
'til she cries no more.
Possessing all the beauty,
hungry still for more.

I can't help this longing.
Comfort me.
I can't hold it all in,
if you won't let me”

- Silence.

So Carry Bradshaw finally got married to John James Preston; she ultimately found her love and stepped from being One into having The One. At the age of 41, she finally did settle for only butterflies, and the Zsa Zsa Zsu was charging her air. At the end, a blue Manolo Blahnik lead her back to her Big love, and in a closet; her sanctuary, they did make their vows.

At some point I have to ask myself: if, in a TV show and a movie, a woman can still keep her beauty, sex drive and people’s attention at the age of 41 (or 50 in Samantha’s case) – should I in return reconsider my deadline of gay life, fun, dates, sex and potentially falling in love to be somehow higher than 30 years old? My few remaining years in my twenties; are they enough to secure me a nice transition to the 30s?

The most important question: with all these walls, pessimism, lines, boundaries and limits that I draw to both my dates and myself – will I even be able to enjoy these few remaining years before it’s too late?

Gigs, events, Tequila, XTC, lust and temptations; there I was, alone and in company of my Carl and his cousin Joe whom I have totally assimilated his constant presence with us wherever we went, in fact, he evolved into this very fun and extrovert person. Dependable and reliable, as well as fun and outgoing, Joe became part of the gang.

During all those parties and enjoyable moments, my craving for Carl was never settling down. Entries were dedicated to him to ease my pain and lust as much as possible - I could never get closure while still having this pending obsession in my head: why he’s keeping me in his outer circle, without sex even though we did enjoy it magnificently the one time that we had it together?

In fact, a couple of days earlier, it just stroke me: I had the perfect relationship with Carl. He was my kind of guys and I was his favorite. When it comes to success, we both have our bright lives. We share the same interests and obsessions. Both of us are alcohol addicts and very conservative when it comes to showing our sexual orientations in public. We both are surrounded by straight friends. I kept on wondering why is he distant, even though while being drunk, he always ‘accidently’ touches my body then, for some strange reason, he steps away. It had to be because of the straight friends we had and his cousin; we both had to pay extra care for not messing up.

“Digg, come stay at my place in Agami better than the hotel”, proposed Carl in the last gig we were at together.

He was sober, I was sober. Is this an invitation? Last time we went there, I was offered more than just a bed to sleep on!

“Sounds great!”, I said while crossing the little river in Marioteya area and calling the gig’s organizer to let us in without hassle or fights on the door. “I might come this week-end”, I added.

After having our night, Carl and Joe confirmed again to join them the week-end after.

I didn’t know how important and life changing that visit would be.

When I got in town, I preferred staying one night alone in my hotel room first to date, meet and enjoy a private genuine time alone before announcing that I was in the Northern Coast.

As soon as I called Carl the next morning, he proposed I’d meet his cousin Joe till he finished work. So I did. Around 4 PM, Joe drove Carl’s car to the company’s bus drop off point to pick him up and drive him home. I waited for half an hour till Carl packed his stuff and we were driving soon after to his Agami house.

On the way, after reducing the loud DJ Paulette’s set, Carl said: “Digg, is it your first time to go to Agami?”

I froze right there in the back seat! What a question! Of course not my first time to Agami. At least, I went there once before when we fucked!

“No”, I simply answered, “I have been here twice before with a friend of mine”; I replied while looking at Joe who was sitting next to Carl’s seat. I still couldn’t understand why had he asked me that question.

Did he forget what happened?

When we reached his house, Carl asked us to wait for a second in the car to check in if his house is empty since his family were staying in the nearby Villa. As he walked away, he greeted his aunt who slowly came near to our car and said:

“Hello there. Are you Carl’s friends?”.

I nodded; so did Joe.

So did Joe!

When we got in, Carl asked me to pick a room. I automatically walked towards the first one to the right and, on its Queen Bed, I put my bag and laptop. I then went to shower while letting them settle in the house. Carl and Joe took the other room next to mine; and started opening the windows to freshen the house.

When I came out, I found them fixing the chairs in the balcony while putting a laptop for a movie. I comfortably sat on the left side chair while leaving them the sofa; and that’s when Joe played Enemy at the Gates. He hadn’t seen the movie; and it was okay with me to watch it again.

Ideas and thoughts kept rushing in my head. I started seriously doubting about the nature of the relationship between Carl and Joe: if they were cousins, why when Joe’s mum called him a few minutes earlier, he had to lie about his whereabouts and hadn’t mention something like “I am with my cuz’ Carl!”. I couldn’t hold my big cat’s curiosity much longer and decided following a bitchy curious way: what would uncover the truth better than a Blue Label vodka on Orange Juice with a weak twist of Mint?

I got Carl drunk, and started monitoring his actions. I could see his hand slowly going on Joe’s leg; and when I moved to pick up a smoke, he slowly removed it. Because I took the ash tray at my side, Carl had to get up to kill his smoke, and while moving towards the tray, he pressed his elbow on Joe’s crotch. Smart, smooth and totally drunk, he was!

As the movie kept showing, he gently rested his head on Joe’s shoulder.

I have cousins, and I never did that to them!

The big picture started showing, after a year knowing Joe and Carl together, I was very happy knowing that as lovers, they survived that long. One year so far together, and what a year, hiding it even from me. I was sure that Joe didn’t know either about me. Carl was keeping the secret from both parties, and I totally respected that.

That explained to me the No Sex! I wasn’t bad. He was in love! He couldn’t date other people, he couldn’t redo that with me even though he wanted to, with all the signs that I witnessed during that year: Carl and Joe were madly in love. Carl’s love went to the extent of letting Joe drive his car, tag him along in all our outings or trips, while making sure that he keeps that bound undercover infront of all people, me included.

Even though it annoyed me, but then, my ironic smile was on my face. I finally had closure.

… and I was jealous.

Not jealous because Joe was Carl’s love, but the jealousy grew in me because Carl found someone. I remembered his previous relationship drama and I couldn’t help but wonder: why he had the desire and guts to go for another relationship while I just can’t even think about starting one even if my desire is killing me?

Joe is not the same. The person I met during David Guetta’s gig was making me angry; but looking at him now, Carl managed evolving him into that magnificent sociable person.

I was jealous because Carl had the power while I don’t. I was green because, in my twenties, and I haven’t even come close to someone who could flip me off my feet and carrie me away. Time’s flying, and I am still living in the shades of my past.

That night, I felt guilty because looking at their room, I found out that I took the queen sized bed while left them with the two separate small ones. I wanted to make the switch, but that would be too obvious and awkward for Carl. Now that I knew, I shouldn’t let him know. He wanted to keep it a secret, I must respect it.

I just decided sleeping and before I close my room’s door, Joe came and, worried and irritated, asked me:

“Digg, do you need anything? Water? Anything?”, I smiled and in my head I said Don’t worry mate, I won’t bother you. I know that you’ll need your privacy for the night. If I was in my Straight Mode, I should be crashing on you early morning and yell at you to wake up; but no. I got it.

I said instead:

“Don’t worry mate, I will just put on my iPod ear pieces and sleep”. Yes, another way of enjoy your time.

Next morning, more curious than a cat, I waited till they both walked out of the room and quickly I walked in and my guilty conscience rested: both separate beds were now connected.

I’ve ironically smiled, and went to the balcony, waiting for the new day’s plans while knowing what mine would be: another couple to celebrate silently, another closure for a crush.

I couldn’t even cry.

Back on Track

I had a long break, since my last entry, not only due to my mood but I just came back to Cairo, 5 days ago, after a 2 months out of country work trips.

And again, I am sharing my ups and downs, resuming the Tantric series – but allow me to interrupt it one more time with a new entry that will be up soon – something that had me in a delusional state for a while.

Finally closure!

 

Welcome Back home, both homes!

Passion

I am craving for a cheesy italian dinner with someone - silly stupid dumb thought. I shake it off my mind, then as soon as I open facebook; and those little tiny torturing news lines are displayed announcing that Carl has a new friend I feel the cold grip squeezing my heart.

I quickly open the friend's page, and of course as most fags tend to do on facebook, leaving it open to public, I tend to flip through this new friend's pictures: yes, the kind Carl likes.

They must have fucked - or maybe Carl is taunting him now to get him into bed, in Agami, over Nadia Ali's sensual lusty beats.

I sigh. I look at my blog and I remember that I haven't progressed in Mika's story: how can I keep it on while he keeps shocking me every single time we are in touch and letting him haunt my MSN list forever now?

I have many ghosts screwing my brains; apparently I am taking this out on fashion. If Carrie had a shoe fetish and obsession, I turn out then to be the guy who will litterarely die in his ties and suits. Even though I never felt comfortable wearing them in the office but I had to change my style into that perfumed, signee-styled freak. Am I looking for all the admiration looks now from my collegues? Do I feel pleased when those girls approach me and tell me how great I look, wondering what will I wear the following day?

Do I need more attention? Or am I seeking for someone's, anyone's attention in particular?

:: In Search Of My Sunrise

Allow me to interrupt the Tantric series in order to register this entry. I know how much you fellow readers are eager to finish those entries, but meanwhile, Mica consumed my energy and time in a way that cannot be blogged in one, two or only three entries. The mess that he left me going through is worth thousand parts.

In this entry, at 6:23 AM, laying in my hotel bed, after Tiesto’s gig in Ghazala hotel, and under the influence of Tequila, Vodka, Beer and the post traumatic and depressive effect of XTC pills, I am neither modifying nor editing in what will be followed. I have never been in touch with my deepest emotions like this very moment.

There we were, heading to the 142 KM space from Alexandria to Ghazala Hotel on the Northern Coast to get lost in Tiesto’s music. Carl was driving while Joe was sitting next to him during which I was preparing the Blue Armani ecstasy pills while mixing Vodka drinks in McDonald’s Sprite (that turned out to be only fucking Soda thanks to the ass hole employee who refused giving me two empty medium sized cups filled with ice till I shoved money down his throat). I was handing the drink to Carl while he was speeding at 160 KM/H to catch the gig. Seeing Carl, even as only a raving partner now, keeps fucking me deep inside to an extent I cannot control anymore.

We walked in and while raving in the VIP area and having the second XTC pill with some Vodka, I started having an out of body experience while lusting for Carl as never before. Seeing him dancing and moving in front of me was a torturing experience that I enjoy having. I must be some kind of a fucking sadist, allowing myself having those euphoric moments just being next to him while knowing that my chapter had ended long before it even started with that intensely sexual night we had spent together in his Agami villa; almost a year ago.

I look now at the Mobinil bracelet I am wearing around my left wrest, tagged with the number 05905 and reading what’s written on it Charge your LIFE, and I can’t help but wonder, is this a sign to remind me that my life, soul and love battery had drained long time ago?

While walking out of the event at 4:30 in the morning earlier tonight, Carl kept asking Joe to take off his shirt and change it with the one he was wearing because it was all sweaty and Joe was feeling cold. Not only because of the hypothermia effect of the XTC pills, but the cold morning air would make people sick especially with our self immunity fucked with all the chemical reactions running in our veins. Carl just took off his shirt and I couldn’t help it anymore. Under my sun glasses, I kept looking at every inch of his firm body and fine chest hair that I used to kiss, suck on nipples and euphorically ejaculated during that one time sex encounter we had. I was craving for more, and he was my only desire.

Where would I find a successful engineer, addicted to partying, alcohol and as sexy as Carl is?

While driving me back to my hotel and listening to Tiesto’s constant Seach of Sunrise, he raised the volume up to the track that kept melodying: I love you. I need you. Right here in my arms. That’s when I couldn’t help but silently crying in my back seat. I had to hide those tears away, showing how vulnerable and weak I am is just out of the question. I remember that guy I met 3 days earlier for a date and after talking for a couple of hours in my car, he called me the next day and said: “Digg. Why do you always keep showing yourself strong and not caring while you’re the weakest person ever from inside? You’re just too fragile and broken; even though you were trying to show in your arrogant way that nothing ever matters in your life but your career and the one night stands that you have, there is deep sorrow and a broken soul laying inside of you”.

Yes indeed. While driving me to the hotel, I suddenly realised that, just like Tiesto’s Search of Sunrise had lasted 7 sets so far, I hadn’t started my first chapter yet. I am craving for someone who just sleeps next to me, right now in my queen bed room, and when I wake up next morning, I just look at him and know that someone is still in love with me.

I am dying for a pure emotion that tangles my sensations, makes me feel real lust, desire, and more of all that cheesy love feeling. Someone who would share my thoughts, care about my problems, and together, we’d look at the next day’s sunrise just like the one I am witnessing now out of my room’s window overlooking the sea, alone.

Again, a tear falls and another cigarette in my hand. How long would this last? I am losing my precious twenty-something years denying and struggling to survive in a schema that I hate.

What would it take to find someone who really wants me just like I want him? Why my love equations are always null, either from my side or my date’s side? How long will it take to stumble upon someone who I can proudly present to my best friends saying that this is the one? Someone who would surprise me with a trip to Sharm or Marina or what-so-fucking ever to attend a gig, get wasted and drive back home to have a never ending making out session; and again, when I wake up in the morning and see his face sleeping, I could read that he forever wants me next to him? I would slowly kiss him and get up make coffee and leave both of us to our work.

We’ve all found the sunrise after Tiesto’s gig; but mine, had set long time ago with no plans to shine again.

Again, I smile and look at the breakfast tray that had just been delivered to my room and can’t help but think: another day, another breakfast; alone.

Dance4Lust

" That summer, we talked endlessly 

always, about everything, 

fusion, nothing new for you 

i felt, hey, under and, cool breezes 

the heavenly "

See you there ;)

:: Tantric : Euphoria - [Part III]

June 26th, 2008 – 11:37 PM

I was driving to Maadi, meeting a Spanish guy for sex. Even though we were supposed to meet at 11:00 sharp, he kept pushing the time 10, 15 then 10 more minutes each time I called. When I got really annoyed waiting for 10 extra minutes, I decided going to the Cafe where Mica always goes for coffee and meet up his friends since it was right next to where I was parking. I had strong feeling that he would be there. I just came near the Cafe’s entrance and there he was, coming out of it and when he saw me; he froze then a big smile went on his face and said:

“Digg! How are you! Long time no see! I miss you so much”, he then hugged me and said: “You were coming to the Cafe or just to see me?”. I quickly answered:

“Mica, do you think I’d drive from Heliopolis to Maadi just to walk in this cafe place randomly? I remembered you and thought passing by. I felt you’d be here!”

He laughed and said while hugging me again:

“Digg! You know me too much don’t you? You just know my habits too much!”.

I smiled back; it was good seeing him; driven by my recent blog entries about him and my feelings. He proved me wrong, again!

 

August 2007

Yes. I was dating Mica. I couldn’t believe that I was doing it, living it, having the rush just waiting for his call and wondering when we would meet. Whenever I was at work, I kept thinking about what we would be doing later at night. It’s that feeling that you have, the urge that you want to call someone so much but you do not want to look like you’re totally into him, wondering what he would think if he receives a too needy SMS, or maybe if you call him up and he doesn’t answer, how would you feel; swamped in your thoughts and ideas that he might be not interested in answering, patiently waiting for his call-back while cursing those boring seconds and fighting the need calling again, maybe he didn’t hear his phone at the first time!

I left my phone open during meetings, he might call. I didn’t want to miss his call. I would excuse out of that boring meeting and answer him; most importantly, I wouldn’t be the one placing the call; that would show how weak I was. I must always wait for his call, that way I don’t show that I am head over heels while being always there if he calls. I was drowning in the calls mess. Sweet and cheesy feeling.

“So Digg, what about tonight?”

“Yeah; what would you like to do?”

“Why don’t you pick me up from my place let’s say around 8? We can go to Pottery Cafe in Heliopolis”. It sounded cool. Even though I had late work that day but fuck it all! I was leaving early and I would pick him up for drinks.

It was that moment of life when you pay extra care to what you will be wearing. I had to follow “the rules”:

1. Right colours combination.

2. Never same outfit twice.

3. Perfume in harmony with both outfit and outing.

4. I must look good enough for him!

I applied all the rules and I sprayed the suitable Body Spray for this outing. I picked him up from his place in Maadi and drove back to Heliopolis. We went in Pottery Cafe and he ordered OJ and Crepe while I took a hot choco browny and Mango juice. I tried hiding as much as possible that question that kept tormenting me since the drinks we had in Grand Hyatt:

“How did you break up with Amgad?"

He looked at me. I quickly said:

“Well, I met the guy and he mentioned how devastated he was because of that relationship he was in and ended. I believe it was you, based on what you told me about him and the conversations I had with him. Since there was too much pain in the air, why did you end it up at first place?”

He cut another piece of Crepe while dripping some of the chocolate and honey sauce and said:

“Things started to get messy at the end. You see, we were in La Bodega one night with friends; I saw him flirting with a friend while we were together. To annoy him, I started flirting with this other person. Then, he went to the bathroom and that friend followed him. I quickly followed them and I saw them making out!”

I didn’t move. I kept listening to his story:

“Then, when I faced him, he told me that he knew about how bitchy I was and those people I made out with. It was like his revenge or something! To be honest I didn’t do much with other people, I just wanted to tease them, nothing more. It was a game with my friends on how far can we drag someone to sex then we just dumb them on bed! I must tell you about those stories, so much fun!”

I slowly poked my browny, while paying more attention to him:

“So we went back to our table, we both raised our beers and cheered the end of our relation”.

I frowned while accidentally  hitting my Mango juice that fell on the floor, making a scene in the middle of the open air cafe! I didn’t pay much attention to what happened: I was freaking out. They cheered their break-up! That simple! That easy! I’ve unintentionally drew an ironic smile on my face and said:

“What? Are you sane? Both of you?”. He was looking at the waiter cleaning the mess I did then said, in french:

“You know we both reached a dead-end. It was obvious that we should have ended a while ago but we kept pushing it. That might have been the final stop which we seized to end that chapter.”

It sounded a bit convincing, but I couldn’t imagine how easily they ended, comparing to my dramatic crash. We kept talking a bit about his relationship and we slowly shifted to his work:

“So what are your plans?”, I asked while taking good care that time of my newly ordered Guava juice.

“I am actually looking to come back to Egypt. I am considering the idea, not sure yet about it but I got really sick and fed up living all alone and isolated in the States”. I nodded. That was my theory anyway about working abroad.

“Should we go?”, he asked while asking for the cheque. When we were going out, he asked asked for my keys. I freaked: no body ever drove my car. I couldn’t trust anyone driving my car while me sitting next to him. I was about to make up an excuse when he just took the keys off my pocket and ran to the car while saying:

“Digg! Hop in. I am driving!”. I felt my heart bouncing. He can’t be in control of me. Who was he to control me? It wasn’t about driving the fucking car or manipulating the steering wheel; it was about me driven and controlled. Driving my car is exactly being on hold of my soul, playing with it, manipulating and toying with it. I started breathing faster while being on the passenger seat while keeping my eyes wide open. He started the engine and I couldn’t stop him. He then started driving my car.

“I like the way you keep your car clean. My elder brother has the same car but he already screwed it up!”

I smiled, a yellow cold smile.

“Digg?”

“hmmm?”

“If I ask you now to dedicate me a song, what would you play? Pick any from your iPod”.

I tried looking at my iPod but I couldn’t hold my worry, I looked at my car’s dash board and noticed that the fuel was running very low.

“Mica, we should go to a gaz station. We’re running low on fuel.”

He then looked at the meter with the remaining 20 KM to empty tank notice, smiled, then pressed more on the gas pedal.

“Don’t worry; these gadgets are always fake”.

He took Al-Rehab street and I started seeing the remaining kilometres getting less and less. I could hardly breathe!

“Mica, seriously please, we need to stop at the next gas station!”

He passed it while saying:

“Digg, trust me. These gadgets aren’t always accurate. We still have some good amount of gas. Don’t worry! What about that song that you’d dedicate to me?”

Shit! Shit! I just picked any track and hit play.

“I am not sure which to pick, Mica, I am not focused!”; I answered with a trembling voice. I was freaking out, being under his total control.

He looked at me, 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

All the uncomfortable feelings that I had were melting away as he was dedicating me that track; in fact, nobody ever dedicated me any song before. It felt strange and warm. Both cheesy but melting me from inside. Somehow I heard Madonna in my head humming Frozen. Mica played with all of my senses in a few minutes. I was scared, because I started depending on him.

I then drove to Maadi to drop him off his place. Started talking about his family and cousins:

“I haven’t told my female cousins that I am in Cairo yet. Once then know, they will start haunting me! I am just having a few peaceful days.”

I smiled. For some reason, being with Mica made me less and less talkative. I usually drive the conversations, the outing and the plans. When I was with him, I become that boring date who only smiles and nods.

When I drove him to his place, he said: “Digg, would you like to come in?”

Tempting, but no; not yet. I didn’t want to screw things up that fast. I wanted to enjoy those precious moments I was having with him.

“Maybe later, it is getting late. I should go home”.

“Okay, as you like. Salam!”

I made sure he was in his place, and I drove off his parking area back to the autostrade, driving home. I quickly took the iPod and pointed the blue highlight to Geri Halliwell and clicked play.

To Be Continued ...

:: Tantric : The Rush - [Part II]

"Take me away.
A million miles away from here!
Take me away.
Find a place for you and me!
You're taking me higher,
High as I could be!
Take me away.
Forever you and me.
Take me away!"

- 4 Strings, Take Me Away

If Alanis Morissette cited 21 things that she wanted in a lover, with most I agree; I can roughly declare mine: successful at work, party animal, smoker, drinker, sweet smart talker, living large, french speaker (preferably been to a french school) and good looking. I know I raised my bars up high just to block every mean to meet "the one", if ever existed. It's very difficult to find all of these points in one person, and even if they are all miraculously met in a way or another - what are the odds that this unique person would fall for me in return?

Mica had them all!

His ideal gym fit build and attractive aura, salesmen's sweet balanced talks and his fucking sexy white shirt he was wearing when I first saw him in Grand Hyatt's lobby totally flipped my world.

What made my fascination even higher and bigger was because I always used to open the picture which he sent me and peek at the hot stud standing in the middle. I was taken by his charming smile, the attractive and stylish outfit and sexy eye contact. There he was, walking towards me among all those foreigners, Arabs and people occupying the space between us. His smile, letting glow his white teeth were the first thing that stroke me. His lips when he came closer were my desired passion.

If Susan Mayers was standing in my place, with all her confusing and spontaneous acts, she would have looked smarter! I lost my words; as well as my cell phone again which fell off my pocket when I was trying to put it away. Before even greeting him, I was bending to collect my phone, cursing my tousled way in controlling my amazement mixed with a very strict judgment on the way I acted with him during those two years online.

That was on my birthday, a wrapped gift sent to me from up above.

"Hey Mica", I said, evading an eye contact. I was ashamed and torturing myself.

"Heeeeey!!", he answered cheerfully. "How ar..".

I didn't let him finish the sentence. Unfocused, I said:

"OKay let's go up to the bar".

I can't remember how many floors we were supposed to go up, but I felt small; too small standing next to him in that tiny small elevator. Time passed slowly, too slowly waiting for the elevator's door to open. He was standing there, next to the mirror, right in front of me. He then suddenly said, as spontaneous and unexpected as he always is:

"Sharm's sun really fucked me dude!", he then raised his shirt - showing me his lightly drawn abs - and saying: "My skin is totally messed!". I couldn't help but let a side look at his body. He was showing it to me and I had to have a preview! He then tilted towards the mirror and started checking himself out. The doors opened on the bar's top floor. I always loved the scene when I walk out of the elevator, greeted by that wonderful purple blue lit with air bubbles rushing up faux-water wall.

We were welcomed by the captain and he directed us to my reserved table. I sat on the high chair and, before opening the menu, Mica looked off the surrounding glass, gazing at the beautiful Cairo august night by the Nile and said:

"I just love this view!"

I loved seeing him in that view as well.

"I'll take a Manhattan", he then said.

"Cosmopolitan please, but could you put instead of the Hibiscus shot a normal Cranberry one?", I commented while handing the menu. Grand Hyatt's bar have invited that Egyptian Cosmopolitan that you would casually find striking at your face when you open the menu.

"Cosmopolitan?", he then asked, "what's that?"

"You don't watch Sex and the City, do you?"

"No", he answered. I quickly said: "I don't know why I order it always as a starter now, but I guess Carrie's lifestyle is taking over mine!"

Lame joke - I was confused, ashamed, amazed, fascinated!

We started talking while having the drinks. He talked about his life in the States and how much he missed having friends; how much he was missing Egypt even if things weren't even comparable between both countries. All that time my adolescent thoughts were taking over my normal ones: was he "the one"? Is this my fairytale? How would it be if we were together? Will we look fine in a relationship? Relationships? No. I am not supposed to start a new one. But what if? What if right then, that very moment was the one that I was meant to reach via all my entries, blog, relationship, complaining, heart break, sorrow, laughter! What if that was it? Should I let it go? Is he even interested? Did he like me?

"You ever been in a relationship before, Mica?", I suddenly asked.

He was silent for a moment then said: "Yeah. Once". I smiled. Even on the "relationship" level he was fitting. Experienced, yet not a slut or a player. I didn't want to ask much about his previous relationship since that would be "too cliché" in terms of checking him out. We talked about hotels, management, IT, fags and even Marcus!

"You know him?", I shouted! "What a small world! We haven't met but last Christmas he was in Egypt and wanted to meet me so much, but I couldn't make it".

He laughed then said: "Next time you chat with him, just tell him "Mica says hi". You'll see what he'd answer."

I poked him and wondered what's that story.

"Well, he came visiting me in the States. After a fun night getting drunk in major clubs where I live, I invited him over my place to sleep. Of course he made big plans in his head that we would definitely be having sex - and to be honest with you I like giving that feeling a lot. So there he was, laying on bed and starting to flirt when I walked in and said: Marcus - you are sleeping on the couch in the living!", Mica then laughed and continued: "The poor guy looked really disappointed. He then wanted to give me a massage at certain point, I was like nice, thanks, feels good - then I wished him good night". He took a sip off his Manhattan then said: "We never had sex, and he's always wishing we could hook up anytime soon!"

The story intrigued me in a way that made me reformulate my words and strategy: he might be a player. I mustn't show him any interest, care or crush. Just in case, I don't want to be the Egyptian version of Marcus, just like that fake Cosmopolitan I was having.

Time flew: it was already 3 in the morning and I hadn't had enough of him. I wanted to know him more and maybe bound in a way or another. He impressed me when he said: "So you're from that French School? We always consider you guys our elder cousins". I laughed then said: "No matter how much rivalry we had during school time, we always tend to be good friends afterwards! Question of the educational culture!" I couldn't ask him to stay longer time, but I just looked at the clock and said: "We'd better leave - listen I am driving you." - that way I am guaranteeing a good half an hour maybe with him more.

He then said: "That's sweet, well thank you. Can you drive me to Ramsis Square? My family's building is there and it's nearby. I could sleep with my cousin". It stroke me. Cousin - the cousin he told me about? The first time sex cousin? The typical paranoid crazy jealous Leo in me woke up. I have barely met the guy for a couple of hours and I was already declaring my possession of his lifestyle.

"Sure of course I am driving you", I answered while receiving the bill. Even though I was expecting him to pay for me, since it was my birthday and he hinted that we'd meet up wherever I wanted, his treat, but we split the amount. It sounded in my head what he told me earlier: "Some people I meet look at me sexy maybe, but mainly as a cash machine, because I live in the states. I hate that!" - Good hint, Mica. A bit subtle when you said it, but good when you implemented it.

We hoped in my car and I spinned my iPod to play some Madonna. I was in mood for her Live Confessions Concert. The sexual and tempting music was totally fitting that warm summer night with that hot guy sitting next to me and alcohol blowing in both our minds. More precisely, with that emotion growing inside of me.

As if things couldn't get any better, Mica just relaxed in his seat more and put his hand on the back of the head-rest of my seat. He then started playing with my hair. Electricity moved down my whole body. I froze, flooded with joy, euphoric with Mica's spontaneous action. He likes me. He's attracted! If that wasn't a sign, then most probably him telling me: "Digg, I like you!" was the killer line, "I feel like I know you for ages, well, technically true we have been chatting for two years! Even though you were acting strangely". I then decided declaring it:

"Mica, your way online was very annoying! Your questions and annoying chats were making me feel uncomfortable". He then answered:

"You know what, Digg, I was doing that on purpose to annoy you. I also felt that you were some kind of geek or something! Whenever you were online, I always wanted to make you act the way you did! It was pleasurable poking you".

He suddenly changed the subject:

"Do you have Take Me Away by the 4 Strings?". I quickly answered: "So you're into Trance and House Music?". He nodded. Another score!

I played the track and raised the volume up. I was feeling like a little kid who had found the path to the candy shop: emotions jumping inside of me, going up in my head exploding, a firework of warm feelings and certitude that I was, finally, on the right track.

I was in Heliopolis area already when he said: “I am hungry - let's have a bite”. I proposed KFC, since it was the only food outlet open at that late hour. He ordered a Zinger Supreme and I slowly drove to Ramsis square as he had asked me earlier. He then said: “Wait I check on my cousin if he’s up. He has the key!”. He kept calling several times but no answer. I offered driving him home in Maadi. He protested that it would be a long drive for me, but I was actually happy and eager to stay as much as possible with him that night. His cousin then called back.

“Hey! How are you?” *pause* “Aren’t you home?” *pause* “No it’s okay, my friend here will drive me to my place” *pause* “No it’s cool. I am with him in his car”. Then he hung up.

I started driving towards Maadi. He guided me to his place since it was in a newly constructed area in Maadi district. When we reached it, I was speechless. It wasn’t a house, but a mansion. That was his parents’ place; while there was a smaller in scale building nearby that was under construction at which he pointed and said: “This will be my home. Still unfinished. My parents insisted having our houses next to each other, including my brother”. He then asked me to drive around the area to give me a guided tour when he suddenly asked: “Do you know Amgad?”. I tried to remember the person, in vain. “He’s a tall tanned guy with deep black hair. He had a dog”. It all came back to me!

“Yes! I know him”, and I mentioned my little adventure with him.

He tilted his head towards the side window and said: “That’s my ex boyfriend”. I gasped!

“I’m sorry really. I mean what happened with him.. I am really sorry. I didn’t know I shouldn’t have said it!”.

“No it’s cool. It’s over now”.

I then said: “Well if it has any condolences to you, he never stopped mentioning how hurt he was after breaking up with you. I didn’t know it was you really! He kept all your details away and confidential”.

He smiled then said: “Yeah, hurt; I bet his new boyfriend is consoling him now!”.

I decided to shut up. What I have told him happened was too much already!

We kept driving around his area till it was 6 in the morning. I drove inside the main house entrance and he stepped out, thanking me for the sweet night and wishing me happy birthday: “Could you SMS me when you get home?”. I was euphoric. I waited till he opened the gate and went in before I started driving back home. I kept playing the most cheerful and uplifting songs I had in my iPod; specially 4 Strings’ Take Me Away. I took note of the tracks that he wanted me to bring the next day.

Even though I knew that he was staying in Cairo for only 3 weeks vacation, the butterflies I had flying inside of me were confirming one fact that I couldn’t deny or ignore anymore. An action that I kept evading, ignoring and escaping from during the past three years: I was finally dating someone.

Proceed to Part III >>

:: Tantric : The Crush - [Part I]

" Do you believe in love at first sight?
It's an illusion, I don't care.
Do you believe I can make you feel better?
Too much confusion, come on over here!

Can we get together?
I really, I really wanna be with you.
Come on, check it out with me.
I hope you, I hope you feel the same way too. "

- Get Together, Madonna.

It was an early day by the end of March when we first chatted. Mica was a 25 years old successful young man who had a fine position in Oracle Company in the states. After a couple of chats, I could draw an idea about the reason why he left Egypt and decided working abroad.

Despite the fact that I never let myself pay attention to people who weren’t available within my living or traveling territories, the way Mica captured my attention online made me believe that I could catch up with him, for his yearly visits to Egypt, even though they were a mere couple of weeks only.

“I never display my picture on MSN”, he said, “I’ll email it to you.”

I kind of laughed: most people don’t like sending the picture itself while he felt that this way was more secured. I quickly jumped to the conclusion that he could be having a thousand contact on his MSN list and wouldn’t spend the time blocking those whom he wouldn’t like seeing his picture displayed.

When I got ‘You have received a new mail from Mica’ pop-up, I eagerly clicked and waited the large picture to load. I was greeted by a photo that included two guys and girl. I quickly typed:

“I am certain that you’re not the chick to the right, which guy are you then?” I said while hoping he could be the excessively hot guy in the middle.

“Which one is hotter?”, he said. I couldn’t reply with my opinion; but declared that both were quiet attractive, and I lied.

“The one to the left!”, he said. I re-opened the picture and tried to find anything attractive in that guy, in vain. He looked boring and apparently he had the hots for the one in the middle just like I did. If it was a video, I could have seen him drooling.

“You look fine!”, I lied –again!

Mica started talking about how life is wonderful in the states, but cruel. He was lonely, and couldn’t make friends even though he had been there for almost a year. My answers were short, but straight to the point: I didn’t want the fact that I wasn’t attracted to him made me change my friendly way. I discussed the possibility of moving back to Egypt while explaining my point of view regarding my passion working in here. Mica was looking for both the position and the large paycheck he was having and they were solely offered in his actual position.

On daily basis, he used to start the chat in his unique way: “Digg! You there?” till the day I bombarded him:

“Mica! People usually start their talks with Hey! Yo! Hi! Or even Good Fucking Morning! Stop your strange way of making me feel as if you’re investigating my presence!”

He laughed and since then he always made sure that he would start his chats with a decent Good Morning –without the fucking part. I sensed that he was one of those people who act spontaneously, not really caring whether that attitude would annoy others or not. What impressed me though is his ability to accept criticism in a friendly way.

Weeks, months passed and my chats were diminishing with him. I must admit that the main reason was behind his physical look. I haven't given him the chance to express himself since every time he used to chat with me, I would turn him down; either by not answering or giving short boring replies. That's when one day he said:

"Digg. I am coming to Cairo next week".

"Oh really?", I answered in my boring way, "that's cool".

He then added, since I haven't answered in the right way:

"I'd like to meet you".

A Yeah, whatever sounded in my head. When he asked for my cell phone number, I just closed my MSN - disconnected!

I made sure I'd block him so when he would be in Egypt and login, I won't be put in that awkward situation. Even though I wasn't quite sure why I keep on chatting with him, I didn't want to block him for good either. During his stay in Cairo, I saw him coming online a couple of times, but thanks to the block I was safe. I was always doing my best to evade him generally by blocking, not answering or simply ignoring what he sends.

I was repulsed by Mica's general attitude: his online cheesiness and nagging all the time; asking about both too private and awkward issues, like that day when he bombed it at me:

"Are you a boxers or a briefs guy?"

I was bewildered by his unexpected question. Why would he get into my private parts while I don't even fucking answer him!

"Your first time, with who and how?" - the question I hate. My first time is non of anybody's business. With who? A GUY!

"My first time, he said, was with my cousin". He started describing what happened when I stopped him:

"Mica. I don't give a damn about your first time. Plus having it with your cousin is very repulsive to me. For crying out loud he's family! How could you do that?"

"Well he did that to me!"

I blocked him, again.

The amount of chats I had with Mica weren't that much at all. I felt very strange when chatting with him: I couldn't shake the way he looked in the picture, his way of talking and his cheesy life. That's when one day, after feeling too guilty and unfair in the way I was treating him, I decided to give him a real chance. After all, why did he keep on believing in me while I was acting total bitch, for almost two years of chatting. Why not knowing him more? Telling him how I felt and see how he'd react.

"So how are you, Mica?", I initiated the chat.

"Good. At work. Wanna tell me what colour your underwear is?", I should block him, but no. A chance, I promised myself.

"I told you several times I don't like this way!".

Few moments passed then:

"Sorry."

I kept reading it. He had a way hitting me always with an unexpected answer, calming me down. He then said:

"Digg can I call you?"

I hesitated, but then I was curious and wanted to know how he sounded.

"Sure! Here's my phone", and I typed it.

Few minutes later, an 'unknown' number was calling. I answered and I paid good attention to his tone. This is one of the major steps in analyzing people's thoughts and mind. He just listened to me at first. Apparently he was judging me as well. He then said:

"I am still at work. Supposed to finish a report today because I am coming in a week to Egypt". I froze! He got me. I then said:

"Really? Well that's like two days after my birthday".

He quickly answered:

"Is it your birthday seriously? Look, I am supposed to go to Sharm to stay 5 days, I will come to Cairo on your birthday. Maybe meet up?"

I hesitated. Usually on my birthday I have a couple of surprise parties then go club till I drop. I was totally sure that I wouldn't meet him on my birthday.

"Okay". I lied.

"Cool! I'll call you when I get to Sharm."

We hung up. I was already planing my escape scenarios.

A week had passed and he hadn't called me. I had forgotten about him already and it was my birthday. For some strange reason my three planned birthday parties were screwed. I finally found myself at 5 PM without any plans for the night. Not only my good friends were already out of town, but those who were available couldn't make it for the night since it was middle of the week. I then logged in MSN when I found Mica sending me a message:

"Digg! Sorry I lost your phone number! My phone is fucked. Motherboard or something. Could you give me your number again?"

I just typed it and closed my MSN. My phone rang a local cellular number.

"Digg? Are we still up for tonight? I am in Cairo". I quickly thought that my day couldn't get any worse.

"Yeah sure!".

"Where to meet?", he asked.

Since it was my birthday and was on the very edge of depression, I just named my favourite place to have drinks: Grand Hyatt's bar, on top of the Nile. I picked it not only because it was my beloved relaxing place, but because it was expensive too - what could make a non wanted date freak out but to show him how crazy spender I am.

"Okay. See you there at 11 PM?", he confirmed.

Apparently, I am totally destined to meet him.

At 10:30, perfuming my white dsquared2 shirt and dark blue D&G Jeans with CK's Crave, I jumped in my car, selected Armin Van Buuren's State of Trance set of the week, took a shot off my flask and geared up direction Grand Hyatt.

Before I got into the hotel's underground parking, Mica called asking if I was there. I confirmed my arrival. He asked me to meet in the lobby; he'll be there 10 minutes later. I got off my car and while passing through the security gate, my cell phone fell. I took it as bad omen since it was badly scratched. I just took it back and went to the elevators, cursing the date, Mica and the whole night. I decided greeting his cheesy ass, have a cosmopolitan then leave. After all, I'll love some attention on my fucked up birthday day.

When I was in the lobby, I kept looking around, no sign of him. 15 minutes had already passed and I was getting really annoyed. I called him.

"Hey Digg! Really sorry. I am already in there."

"You'd better because I am leave already", I said really pissed at everything around me.

"Where are you?", he said.

"I am in the freaking lobby Mica! You asked me to wait infront of the reception!"

"I am coming. I am in a white T-Shirt".

I turned around looking for someone in a white T-Shirt, cheesy looking, drooling as I remember seeing in the picture holding a cell phone.

"I can't see you.. Where ar...

I froze.

What I was seeing made my whole body shiver from head to toes. I felt a frozen cold thunder running in my spine. As seen in movies and as I always thought it was ridiculous, I was lowering down my hand holding the cell phone. After two full years of bitching, nagging, being mean and low; Mica wasn't the guy to the left in the picture. He was the fucking damn hot guy in the middle.

Seeing Mica coming towards me, smiling with his soft hair, large slightly hairy chest under his transparent white T-Shirt with a magnificent Sharm al Sheikh tan, I couldn't move, talk, smile, greet. I stood still.

He captured my heart, at first sight.

>> Proceed to Part II

:: This Is Where You Lose Your Mind!

May 1st, 2008

See you there ; )

:: So This Is Goodbye

"I still don't have the reason,
And you don't have the time.
And it really makes me wonder
If I ever gave a fuck about you"

Here I am sitting in my best friend's car; waiting for him to come down after deciding to break up with his girl friend; soon after their big plans of marriage. Their big castle of strong beliefs is collapsing; leaving them in shreds.

So breaks-up do happen in straight life as well.

When it comes to break-ups; why do we always link to the traumatic effect that would happen after leaving the beloved one; and we simply let the fact of pushing in the wrong way; mending and patching things up; causes bigger pain and loss? Trying to resurrect a dying feeling is a huge load.

Thinking about myself, about my relationship and the big love I had for Him, isn't better now that we both are taking over our lives without all the struggles that we used to have in order to enjoy each other's presence?

Why do we always tend to think about drama, while being in love and after ending the relationship?

Falling back to the juicy stories, meeting Roland was a mistake:

When we chatted for the first time, he sounded a fun and sexy person. His hot picture promised a lot of action. When we decided meeting, I went over to his place and was ready for the steaming sex.

When I got into his place, I was already drunk. Alcohol made me focused on one thing: his naked passionate body. We sat on the sofa and started cuddling; sweet talks were turning me on. I gently pressed on his chin and started my playful game of touching lips while making him lean forward to reach me for our first kiss. He suddenly froze:

"I can't". In return, I stood still, while holding his hand.

"What's up, Roland?"

"I just can't do this. I am sorry!", and he started crying.

I found myself helpless. I wanted to have sex, I wanted him naked. What the fuck was going wrong?

"I just broke up!"

It hit me. Not the fact that I might be his rebound sex, but the fact that he needed to talk!

Not caring about his psychological mess, I decided listening to him for a few, exchanging a couple of talks in order to quench my hard on.

"That's bad! How long have you been together?", I asked while caressing his hot half bearded cheek.

"Two years", he answered. "We broke up a week ago."

I slowly slipped my hand down his spin to touch his back. Again I repeated: "That's bad", while saying in my head: "That's boring! Get over with it already and let's fuck!". For a while, I thought about what a wreck I have become, without sympathy feelings or care. The fact that I broke up made me become heartless.

"I am sorry, I can't do this!". I sighed! Here goes away my fuck! Another drama queen.

Usually when people think about love, they only plan the first exquisite feeling they share for the first weeks or maybe months. Discovering each other, knowing more about their lifestyles, meeting friends and starting to be a couple. What we always miss is the ending phase. Most of us know that its realization is imminent, but we tend to stretch the passion the longest possible. This behavior becomes the rule even when it is the dying phase: trying to make it work. In that stage, all spent power to resurrect the dying love is actually the double sided knife that makes hurt bigger and deeper.

Breaking-up is as simple as falling in love. It's a phase, just a transitional period. We just need strength to admit that we actually have to pass that thin red line, willingly, before it becomes humiliating.

Seeing my best friend suffering all the past months, trying to believe in their love makes me very sad and helpless. Even though I had to be the supporting person, I couldn't but let out the truth: maybe he is amazing. Maybe she is perfect. But they are not meant for each other!

That's another issue: two great persons don't necessarily make one great relationship.

In fact, three years ago, I met Arnau. By far, I classify him as the sexiest person I laid my eyes on: with his naturally tanned skin, made more shiny with his weekly exposure to sun and sea due to the sports he used to play; along with his wide deep black eyes, blue black soft hair combed all spiky and wild, broad shoulders and wonderful teeth in the most attractive smile; Arnau was one of the default Yahoo! avatars, or sexy D&G models.

When we first met online, I wasn't sure if he would be willing to meet me. Each and every one of us knows his leagues, even if we don't really admit it to ourselves sometimes, but his striking man look in his display picture with his Black Jack dog would intimidate John of Desperate Housewives himself!

The next week-end, we went to the movies together. Surprisingly, things went good. Excellent in fact; we kissed after driving him to his place. I knew that he was in a relationship and that it had just ended, and I literarily cursed the person who left him. Such a hottie should be raised on a pedestal!

Three weeks later, it was the new year's eve and we decided being together in my friend's house party.

Since this was soon after my dead relationship, I had huge problems of security and self confidence. Mainly: tryst. Wasted, we danced, flirted and kissed; but when another person I knew was in the gig, I couldn't help myself making out with him as well. Arnau was offended: not only I was making out with someone else, but I actually left him in the middle of a conversation to kiss!

Cheap, it was. Mean, I acted.

I knew I couldn't talk to him anymore, especially after he went to the balcony and started mingling with the rest of the people.

Two and a half years later, I met Mario. The night he played Geri Halliwell's Calling track in my car; capturing my heart and soul and making me melt in the cheesiest way, I knew that he was Arnau's ex boyfriend.

Two great people, don't usually make one great relationship. At least that's what I learnt and saw.

Whenever your heart is blocked, it's about time to start using your brains! It is not bad to admit that love is over, it doesn't diminish you as a human being. It is okay to accept the end. Goodbyes are meant to exist, happen and survive. There are always signs that show that this relationship is ending, accept them, embrace them and cherish them even. Think about how things were, and try to keep the good memory. If you fell in love once and it ended, you should be grateful that you had lived this unique wonderful feeling. Not many who have tasted it, truthfully.

... and then more than a Year passed!

Poll 1

Poll 2

:: Boy, interrupted!

My home phone rang at 3:30 in the morning; I was just getting back home in that summer night in 2005, thinking about my new job that would start the next day. I was partying with my friends the new contract and it was about time to sleep, if I wanted to give a good impression at the new firm.

"Yes?", I said while looking at the watch as I picked up the phone. It surely was 3:30 in the morning, who would call me that late; and on my private home phone?

"umm.. Digg?", a soft voice asked.

"Yes. Who is this?", I quickly asked while assuming that this couldn't be but a gay guy. I had no clue who could that be, but calling me on my home number was something serious.

"How is it going?", he asked, skipping my earlier question.

"Good. Who is this again?", I asked, irritated this time.

"I am a friend. I just want to see you now."

Now? Was he crazy?

"Now? Are you crazy? Who are you? Listen mate, looks like you're just fooling around. You'd better tell me who you are. I've got your number here!", I said while checking my Caller ID. It was a certain land line number in Mohandessin Area.

"Trust me I mean no harm. I thought you'd recognize my voice when I call you, but many years have passed. I changed a lot it seems".

He captured my attention.

"You see, I want to see you now... I want to see the expression on your face when you cross me. I so want to see how you'd react!"

I got puzzled.

"Listen, the fact that you have my home number means that you are someone I really cared about it seems; which makes me quite confused, I mean not recognizing you is killing me, but I sincerely can't go out now, I barely have to catch a couple of hours of sleep before I start my new job tomorrow. Can we make this tomorrow night instead?", I was worried more than in need to sleep. I felt unsafe.

"Sure. Oh and Digg, Happy Birthday!"

I hung up bewildered, my birthday would be in 4 days and this unknown person still remembered me very well. Puzzled, excited, I was waiting for his phone call the following night as promised.

 

I always had a doctor/patient fetish, but I never had sex with a medical student before. Even though it might turn me on to unattainable limits that I might have ever reached anytime, I never thought about anyone else who could fit in that picture but Haley.

It was one of those early days in 2000 when I used to date people and hope that they would turn out to be my saviors. Cheesy thoughts could fill my young head; heavenly music used to deafen my ears even though I was standing in the middle of Tahrir square; the always busy place in Cairo. I was supposed to meet a certain twenty-something years old fresh medical student, and boy, I needed therapy.

He was looking at me from a distance, and I knew it was him. Even though we haven't exchanged pictures back then, I could feel that it was him from the eye contact and the vague connection that we had. I never initiate the first move, but his looks and the desire pushed me to start the first talk:

"Haley?", I said while walking slowly towards the boy who was wearing his cap, throwing a deep enigmatic feeling and impression to his persona.

"Yes", he simply answered yes. Nothing more; just a yes, while looking at the ground; masking his face with the same cap that made him look even cuter with the feeble blush I could see in the night's shades and lousy lamps in the street in front of KFC.

I can't remember what happened that night, but it was fascinating. Flashes of a walk by the Nile, a quick run to cross the busy streets and me, foolishly fantasizing kissing him. My back then blurred seventeen years old mind drew a lot of intimate things with that twenty one years old cute boy; and I was loving it.

Haley's problem was routed far beyond his sexual confusion: being the only son in his family after his father's death made him carry a heavy responsibility in an early age. They used to live a lavish life before his old man passed away, not caring for expenses since he used to provide them the high standard of life they needed. With his own car and outings, Haley used to live large.

Days never stay as cheerful as they might reflect: hospitals, debts, problems and different money exhausting issues drained all the savings that his family had. Haley had to sell his own car, move into another small apartment with his family outside Cairo in order to survive. Many things got broken inside of him, and he wasn't coping quite well with all these sudden changes. When he understood the true nature of his sexual orientation, Haley felt lost in a dark pit that couldn't be enlightened by any candle, fire or even a nuclear power station! Depression took control of him: he had to survive and provide extra money for his mother and sisters as well while thinking and wondering what makes him love the boy-boy action. Haley surrendered to the classic scenario of therapy and medication.

He told me all that in the first time we met and I sympathized with him. He didn't look like someone who deserved suffering in his life; at least, not being victim of such monstrosity and awful luck.

Two weeks later, I wanted him already to meet my group of friends back then. I scheduled a meeting in Marriott's Bakery Cafe at 7 PM and picked up Haley from Tahrir. We were planing to have coffee, catch a movie then hang out a bit. I wanted him to step into my inner circle; my plans were high and optimistic.

For the first hour in the Cafe, Haley was silent. My friends tried making him talk, but he always answered with a couple of words. The kid was too shaken to the extent of losing all his self confidence. He took his delicate features for granted, his mesmerizing eyes as if they were common. He always used to complain about his body: "I gained weight". "I am not in shape". "I look bad"! I couldn't relate to any of his assumptions, but when we are down, nothing can lift us up except our own self confidence and esteem.

Time flew, and we were already late for the movie. My friend Roco suggested going to the movie theatre and see what we could catch, if not, we could hang around the mall. We all agreed.

While going in the car, Haley held my arm so tight. I leaned close to him and asked:

"What's wrong dear?"

"I don't feel okay. Your friends are too... open!"

"Sorry?", I asked looking at him, "What do you mean by open?"

He went silent for a moment then said:

"Later I tell you, are we going to stay for long?"

We didn't catch the movie but had a couple of drinks in the mall and talked. I tried focusing more on Haley who started letting go a bit. He was having side talks with Tommy which made me feel comfortable.

After driving him to the train station, Rocco said:

"He's sweet, but not for you, Digg".

I frowned, as if I was insulted:

"What's that?"

"Seriously, the kid is too closed", again I couldn't understand the mysterious open and close expressions. He kept on: "He's too simple, not self confident and he really needs to take care of himself a bit".

"You have no right judging him that way, Rocco", I quickly answered while leaving his car. My Haley was fine. He was better than any of them: his innocent and clean soul were his aura that impressed me.

Two days later I found Haley online:

"So what about the other day's worries you had".

"I don't feel comfortable with your friends. They are too gay. The way they talk, act, behave", he was right. That was one of my very pink phases in my life.

"I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I just wanted you around; knowing me and them better".

"What did they say about me?"

... I had to lie.

 

The following time we scheduled a meeting in the same place, Tahrir square, he was standing there wearing the same heavy coat and holding a flower. A red one.

"Hey Haley", I said while looking at the flower.

He didn't answer. We walked a bit then he handed me the rose saying:

"I had a gift with me as well, but my bag was stolen in the subway".

I smiled while taking the flower:

"Thank you". It touched me, cheesy yes. Too romantic in a way that would make you vomit: absolutely true, but how do you explain these mixed feelings you get whenever someone you really like just thinks about you in a materialistic way?

"What happened?"

"I was going in the subway, and right before the doors close, someone cut the bag's handle and ran away. I couldn't get out, the doors were already closed and the train moved."

I sighed: "Oh dear! Thank God that knife didn't hurt you or something".

Silence. Whenever he used to say a long sentence, he used to remain silent afterwards as if he had a certain limited amount of words to say per hour.

We had coffee together that night and around 11 PM, I walked with him to the subway station.

"You be careful this time okay?", I said while buying two tickets, one for each of us.

"Why are you getting two tickets?", he asked.

I actually assumed that he had lost his wallet as well, instead of buying him only one ticket that would be embarrassing, I suggested waiting with him on the platform.

"I just want to wait for you", I answered.

"No it's okay", he said, "I have my own ticket".

I handed him the one I bought and suggested using it next time we'd meet, so I'd guarantee a "next time". While standing on the platform's entrance, two trains passed yet we kept talking. I quickly handed him 50 pounds which he refused:

"Come on! Listen, you never know what could happen while you're going back home. You keep this, and give it to me next time we meet if you won't need it.", again, a lousy next time scenario. I could picture the awkwardness of the moment, but I had to do what I had to.

While he was going through the gates he said: "Digg, I am bringing these back to you". And he disappeared in the crowd. Even though I felt very happy while going back home, humming and running, rushing to reach my PC and wait for him; I had this huge inner feeling that I wouldn't see him again.

At least, I didn't know that the next time he would get in touch would be after 5 years, via a phone call at 3:30 in the morning that kept me wondering who that person could be. I haven't thought it was Haley: they tone, way and confidence expressed over the phone weren't what I used to remember about him. I wished so many times knowing what had happened to him, he left me devastated not knowing anything about him. I had no way to reach him, no cell phone number, no home address or even an MSN. I just had a picture of his which I always kept on my PC.

The second phone call that was supposed to be done the following day as he promised me that night hadn't come in but  a week later in which he revealed his identity, telling me that he was already in the airport going back to Switzerland where he had left years before. Haley still remembered me, and wanted to see me in the vacation he had in Egypt but couldn't get the same guts he had the first night he called asking to meet. He felt guilty leaving me in the dark, that's why he called again telling me about himself. He finished the call saying:

"Digg, I still keep the 50 pounds and the train ticket as promised!"

Lamer than being in a lousy Bollywood movie, I smiled.

I so much wanted to see him. I missed his lips. I always loved commenting on how cherry they were; full and attractive. His eye contact made me melt, and his extremely sharming shy looks could make me swoon. His well built large chest and dark hair were captivating me.

Multiply all this by 100, and you'd get his new look.

When he added me over MSN a year later, I saw his new pictures. Haley literarily fucked himself at gym. Not too bulky, but the firmest and most perfect body shape I have ever encountered I could see on the display picture. His looks got way better: bye bye silly caps and lousy sweaters; hello spiky hair, tight bodies and sexy low waist jeans. He looked man, macho, cute, sexy, baby, cuddly: all in one glance. Haley was Mr.Perfect.

"You can't believe how I changed Digg", he said while starting the chat, "I actually had sex with a guy!"

I laughed, with a pinch of jealousy.

"Was it good?", I teased.

"Of course it was. I finally overcame my inner confusion! Remember those days when I told you I used to go to psychiatrists and psychologists, filling me up with medicine?"

"Yeah", I quickly typed remembering how I used to get upset with all those chemical waste and dumb they used to stick in him.

"Well, not anymore. I finally believe in myself. It took me time to reach so, but I am quite balanced. It's just loneliness that is killing me. I became a working machine, making money; but at the end of day, all alone."

We kept on talking every now and then online; I felt bad seeing him that perfect, yet that far away from me. He decided starting a new life after that night we spent together. He silently packed his stuff and went adventuring in Europe; changing his career. He got lucky after a while in a new job in France and from there he kicked up. Gained his confidence, re-built his lost self esteem and finally felt alive.

The first time I met him was 7 years after our first kids meeting, in Thrust. We had a date that night to join Marco V's spinning night, and I was supposed to meet Carl as well. I was devil enough to invite Haley just to make Carl see me with that hot sex bomb, in fact, almost all fags and girls in the gig were trying to hook up with Haley. When I touched his body while dancing, it was so firm yet very soft that turned me on. When Carl joined us later, I felt from his looks that he either was so annoyed seeing me with such a hunk, or he wanted him badly.

When I saw Haley that night, after all these years carrying a box with a gift that reached me safely that night without being stolen, which I made a joke about, I felt that all the years that separated both dates were just a couple of days. Even though Haley looked totally different, in fact I didn't recognize him at first, his very same pure and wonderful soul remained the same. We couldn't talk much that night because of the loud music, but we surely danced like crazy. Seeing his beautiful lips and attractive eyes again, in that miraculous shape of his that he worked so hard to reach made me feel king of the night; and a kid, 7 years back in time.

When we finished the party, Carl was too possessing my thoughts and monopolizing my drunken measures that I quickly drove Haley to his friend's place and actually turning his invitation down to have dinner with him and maybe spend the night. I wanted to see Carl, I wanted to go to Carl's after party. While driving Haley, he said, talking about Carl, Kane and their friends:

"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 at least not go to that after party, please?"

I smiled; and didn't answer. I wanted to go. I refused Haley's juicy invitation to dinner and night: Carl was mesmerizing me.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, I was in the Intercontinental's lobby -empty. I looked around, then looked at my dead phone; smiled and thought that Haley's wish had just come true: Carl had left.

Three weeks later, Haley left Egypt back to his life, leaving me his always wonderful memory, a couple of pictures we took in Thrust; a wonderful gift that I will forever keep on my office desk, and this blog space just for him.

 

"Why is he late?", he asked my girl friend.

"He said he's putting your gift in the car, he can't dance while holding that box!", she answered him while looking at the people raving.

"Well, I hope he just didn't take it and run away, I mean, it's not a really expensive gift! I want him back!", they both laughed... that's when I got into the club and saw them socializing. I was glad that Haley had finally managed breaking all his ice, even if I wasn't the one who hammered it.

:: unforGUETTAble

" We met for a moment and then it's goodbye,
but I just lived a lifetime with you in my mind:
What would it be to live in your world,
if you were my boy and I was your guy.
It's crazy this spell you have me under!
I know it can't be but I'll always wonder:
What would my life be living in your arms,
I feel I'll never know.
and what would you say,
if I were to stay,
and just go your way? "

- Rachael Starr.

Sharm al-Sheikh: Land of freedom. A place where most people head to, not only to have their crazy escapades in the mountains, deep in the red sea or in a wasted brand named night club, but also land of various sexcapades that most of the Egyptians tend to experience since being there, the sky is the limit. People are happy, enjoying their vacation in a luxurious way. Foreigners who want to be entertained, or seek hot Egyptian studs to have a sexy full of passion and heated vacation let themselves carried by hunks, gay people who openly show that they are together; enjoy each other's presence without any judgmental look from the Egyptian community, except for one person who had to control his eye contacts and behavior: me!

The night before we head to Sharm as planned to join David Guetta's session in Pacha with my Carl (Intoxicating), I was exquisitely delighted when he called me up and wanted to meet up for drinks. He finally initiated the call, and I started building a marvelous scenario that would carry me away for the following three days and nights in Sharm. Heat, Terrazzina beach dancing on the sand, in the sea, around the fire, ecstasy, alcohol, Pacha, Little Buddha, passion, thrill, temptation and most probably a second passionate night, me and Carl, venting all the acquired tension and need for delirious body contact on bed. The need of his existence and the thirst for another thrust were controlling my senses. How many times have I played First Time track? My iPod topped it, and it won't be reached unless I spin other records a hundred times. Drinks with Carl, I really needed that. I wanted to be closer to him again, even by sharing a seat next to him in his car.

I picked him up from his place in Cairo and we quickly went to Drinkie's for a drinks charge. IDs were our choice and House was our music. We drove around a bit, started drinking and talking about new tracks, outings, parties and of course the long awaited gig. When we got tipsy, Carl suggested going somewhere more fun, to show-off. He quickly suggested FBI area; and I liked the idea. I drove him back to his car, gave him my iPod's FM connector set to frequency 99.3 and we both were rocking the same tune he was transmitting. We raced on Mohandessin streets, played on the 6th of October bridge and when that Hyundai car tried to lock my way, he quickly made sure to open up space for me just not to lose his tail, and the music!

FBI Area: A simple Mobil gas station, filled with a line of food and beverage shops that was known as a hang out place for boys and gals who want to show off their music, cars or themselves. We picked the last place and parked next to each other, lowered the windows and let the house mixes blow everybody's minds. Drunk by then, we were drinking and raving to the music, in the open. It started dancing in my mind along with my body moves the sensational pleasure and haunting ideas of having Carl more and more. If I ever pictured a boyfriend to be, he would totally fit in the picture with his successful life, raving style and careless lifestyle when it comes to having fun. He knew how to enjoy; and I was enjoying him.

It started getting late and guys were leaving. We hadn't had enough yet, we kept on the beat till early morning driving randomly in Cairo's calm and beautiful streets at night. I laughed and loved his laughter. He turned me on even more; but were I allowed to show my care? After our night together in Agami, I couldn't understand the change in his behavior. Were I his friend? I couldn't bare the idea of being rejected, yet all the signs were reflecting casualty and ease whenever we meet. Even though all my hidden flirts online were smartly blocked by his subtle answers, I didn't want to reject the idea of maybe things would be different in Sharm.

By 7 in the morning, I was back home. I barely slept for four hours when I got his call:

"Digg! How are you boy?"

"Fine", I answered while yawning, "Tell me what's up mate!"

"Get ready! I'll pick you up in a couple of hours. Direction: Sharm!"

"What!", I quickly said, "Weren't we supposed to take off at night? I mean the hotel reservations aren't on till tomorrow morning."

"Don't worry, boy", he answered, "my friends have a plan!".

"Hell okay! I need to prepare my bag then!"

Before I end the call, I jumped in the shower to freshen up then started packing. I was still under the alcohol's effect and felt delighted.

Around 2 PM, he called me. I quickly went to meet him up. While walking closer to his car, I noticed a silhouette of some person sitting next to him. I was curious: he mentioned that his cousin and a friend would join us, but I didn't expect seeing any of them that soon.

"Hey boy!", he said while I was getting into his car. "Digg, this is Joe. Joe, meet Digg". I quickly saluted the guy, and to my surprise he was a barely 20 years old kid under his large sun glasses. Soft, sweet and awfully cute. Jealousy hit me. Who was that kid? Only Joe. No details, no information, nothing. I was glad that I was having my Police on, otherwise, Carl and his Joe could see fire jumping off my eyes.

He was quiet; and I was quitter. Carl quickly briefed me that he had to go back to Mohandessin to meet up with his friends and start driving all together to Sharm; that's when Joe talked. I can't remember what he said, but he had a low tone, and I didn't want to listen to what he said. I just laid my head back and surrendered to the Greg di Mano set that was being played. The way Carl acted with Joe made me angry -without a reason. The fact that I wasn't his center of attention made me jealous; and the way he was touching and looking at Joe burnt me. Were I just another one night stand guy who just turned into friendship because we shared the same interests? Was Joe his new conquest? Is he going to stay with him in one room and leaving me wonder silently and regret the whole trip? Haunted with ideas, I was sitting in the back seat.

When we reached the meeting point, a bunch of guys, straight and hot were out there. They were talking about drugs, ecstasies and alcohol. I wanted to join them, but I always had this fear of facing a group of friends. I preferred waiting in the car, playing Solitaire on my i-mate. Fifteen minutes later, Joe came next to my open window and said:

"Hey! Staying in the car to play Solitaire?"

"It comes in handy when you're disconnected, huh!", I said while looking at him. He barely drew a smile of his baby face and left. Forty minutes later, Carl and Joe were back in the car; with a new barely 17 years old friend! The trip started turning into a children summer camp in Sharm. Carl introduced the new kid to me, Herly. He was half Venezuelan; from what I knew later. He was the younger brother of one of Carl's friends. I knew that our car would be the "drugs free" one. We had to wait till his friends were loaded with cocaine in order to join us.

"What to do now, guys?", asked Carl, "We are supposed to wait till they get the stuff".

"Let's get our drinks and wait in FBI", I suggested.

Quickly we loaded the car with Heineken cans and waited for a couple of hours in FBI. When it started getting late, Carl called his friends: they were still waiting for the drugs.

"What do you think boys? Hit the road?". Obviously we all agreed.

Cans opened, smokes lit, loud music played, we were on the long 6 hours drive way to Sharm. I learnt that Joe was alcohol and smoke free person; actually Carl was the one who said and refused when Herly suggested opening him a Heineken. I was bewildered with his attitude, but what the hell! I was supposed to go and enjoy my trip, my gig, my time! When we reached the toll gate, Joe casually opened Carl's wallet and took out the money. Wasn't that too intimate? It hit me more when Joe simply answered Carl's phone based on his desire. Those guys were acting as boyfriends. Off my dreams flew away!

It was around 10:30 PM when we reached Sharm and Carl's friends were still in Cairo. We had no place to stay and it was getting cold. We drove around a bit and kept on contacting his friend Kane in order to know more when they would be able to join us and what were their plans concerning the night in Sharm. We finally got a vague answer, after several non answered calls to Kane, that they were going to check a couple of resort in Neama Bay area.

"Sharm, on Feast day, David Guetta's eve, and no reservation? Were they nuts finding a place now?", I asked, astonished by the news.

"Kane said that they know the manager of a couple of places in here, we should try to reach him".

We tried reaching him till 2 in the morning, in vain. We finally parked in Neama Bay View resort and, exhausted, Carl sat next to me in the back seat and asked Herly to drive if the manager appears. We were half sleeping, cold and uncomfortably sitting. I looked at Carl sitting next to me and surrendering to the situation and smiled. I quickly said:

"You know what, we're going to remember this and laugh!"

He tilted his head and answered, without looking at me:

"Yeah, let's just hope passing this night!"

A BMW's headlights hit us. I heard Herly talking to some guy who felt pity for us. It turned out to be the manager:

"Listen guys, I have my own Villa at the end of the resort. You stay there for the night and we'd see what to do tomorrow". Both Herly and Joe went to check it out; that's when I couldn't hold it anymore:

"Carl?".

"mmmm?".

"Who is Joe?".

"He's my cousin".

"Oh!", I answered, "He seems like a nice kid. Innocent!".

Fuck! I kept repeating in my head. That's why all the care and intimacy! Carl was responsible of his cousin! Even though I felt guilty, but still I hated Joe being Carl's center of attention. In fact, Joe was the typical image of the spoiled kid who needs anything in the moment. Totally irresponsible and a serious burden.

We got in the Villa which was big enough to host all of the gang. We quickly went to bed. Joe and Carl took the large bed, while I quietly took the side one and tried to get some rest. Herly stayed up, waiting for the rest of the boys.

At 5 AM, loud knocking.

Voices. People talking. Music loudly played.

I was too drunk and tired to react.

It was around 11 AM when I woke up. Carl was already moving in his bed and Joe was awake. We slowly went out to freshen up. I shaved, then went to the living room where I found 4 people sleeping on the couch, on the floor and on a chair. I spotted Joe and Carl somewhere sitting in the darkened room. We started talking in a low tone, not to wake anyone's up.

"Looks like they are totally fucked up already!", I whispered.

"Yeah! But don't worry, they'll jump soon", whispered back Carl.

"So what are we supposed to do today concerning the Hotel reservation?", I asked.

"Well I was thinking", said Carl, "We should cancel it and stay in here. I mean the after party will be in this very same place, why would we get disconnected from the guys?".

"Oh okay. So it's final. I will call the hotel now and make sure we'd cancel our reservations then we go pick up our tick...", I couldn't finish whispering my last sentence since Kane started moving. I felt guilty for waking him up, since I was the last one to talk. We all looked at him and I was watching him moving, hoping that I hadn't bothered him. Kane said:

"Guys! Talk louder! This low tone is annoying me!" I stayed frozen; was he talking seriously; or making fun? He then looked at me. I looked back. His eye contact was so piercing I had to look away for a second, then looked back at him, wondering whether he was really annoyed or it was okay. Kane got up, looked at the other friends then walked to the bathroom. I quickly looked at him moving away, and kept my mouth shut, except answering his Good Morning!

Half an hour later, Carl suggested bringing in breakfast. I changed and went down to wait for him in the car. A few minutes later, Carl went down. When he got in the car, he took off his sun glasses and said:

"Digg, did you look at Kane in a strange way?"

"Huh?", I quickly answered, "What do you mean strange way?"

"Well, he just took me aside and told me you looked at him in a bad way. He asked if you were gay!"

"What?", I said, terrorized.

"Listen Digg. This trip is totally straight. All people in here are straight. No gay talks. No gay looks. No gay crap! You need to take care!"

I felt a frozen hand squeezing my heart when I heard him saying that. I just mumbled:

"I know! You don't have to tell me so. When I looked at Kane I was feeling guilty for waking him up! What all this fuss!"

"I of course denied everything, but you just need to pay more attention".

I stayed silent. Joe joined us and we brought breakfast from McDonald's.

Carl changed. I felt him avoiding me. Everybody was loosely dancing to the loud music, drinking and I was calculating every single gesture I was having. I felt horribly guilty and ashamed of what happened; and above all, felt bad that Carl had to control all his actions to avoid Kane's judgmental thoughts.

It was aroud 3 PM when Carl suggested going to Terrazzina. I soundly welcomed the idea: anything to go out of this place and Kane's existence. Carl, Joe and I got in the House music themed beach and, again, smoked and more alcohol I felt happy dancing in the sea. Carl still avoiding me; but what the hell! I was high and happy enjoying water, music and sun.

Time flew and we were already going around midnight to Pacha. After checking in the VIP area and making sure our Tequila bottle was well served with lime and salt, Carl and I started warming up with shots while Joe was having his Soda. Ecstasy's effect started tickling my skin and eyes. Tequila's power took control of my head with music; yet I had to control my acts: Carl's cousin was around.

David Guetta was spinning and I took over a dancing stool right next to the gigantic speakers. I was raving, lost in the music away from my thoughts when Carl joined me on top of the stool. We danced together, touched each other and I was suddenly alerted with the fact of Joe's presence. I looked around, he was slowly dancing somewhere, not aware of what was going on. My obsession was blinding and disconnecting me. Maybe Carl let go a couple of seconds, but he quickly realized that he had to stop what he was doing. Was he worried by Joe's presence? Or was it me? His friend and making sure that I wouldn't get wrong message.

Half an hour later, a couple of his friends showed up and again, I felt really bad remembering Kane's incident. I went up the high dancing stool and tried raving the haunting ideas off my mind. I started blurring under the ecstasy and Tequila's mixed effect. A certain hot American girl asked me to help her get on the stool with me. I gladly did and started raving with her. In her hot short black skirt, she kept on bending, touching my crotch with her ass. I quickly glanced at Carl and his friends, they were looking at me. I took advantage of the moment: that would be the perfect timing to save Carl's ass from the accusation. I started dirty dancing and shamelessly raving with the chick. She turned around, took off my Police sun glasses and wore them while giving me a sip from her Screw Driver. She looked at my lips, and we were making out, on top of the stool, surrounded by David Guetta's Music and under Carl and his friends' eyes.

That wasn't how I pictured my night to be, at all.

I quickly ended the kiss, and kept on raving her. She leaned next to my ear, and while sensing her hot breath on my nick heard her saying: "You're a good dancer", then a few seconds later, "... and kisser!".

I wanted Carl badly. I wanted him the one I'd kiss, dance, rave and fuck!

We left at 6 in the morning. And because Joe was hungry, we had to swing by Pizza Hut. After ordering and sitting down, totally fucked up and barely opening our eyes because of the lights, Carl said:

"Digg, I am sorry".

I looked at Joe, then looked at Carl and said:

"What for?"

"I am sorry for what I told you this morning. I really mean it, but you haven't seen how Kane said it. It was really hurtful! He even asked me to leave!".

I looked down then said: "I feel bad too, I genuinely do."

I really did feel bad. not because of that incident, but because I knew by then that Carl had totally classified me as a friend. I felt bad because I sensed in his tone and attitude during the whole trip and gig total avoidance and total concentration on how not to make me get a wrong vibe.

I felt bad because I like him; and I still do. I felt bad because I drew too much stories; and raised my expectations up and high. I felt worse because I couldn't tell him how I felt, but keeping it all inside. My pride and self esteem couldn't be hit again with any rejection. Carl would always remain dear and close to me, even if he doesn't share the same emotions. I'd accept him the way he wants us to be; at least, I might be always keeping a spark in the back of my mine, maybe, next time; there won't be neither a Kane, nor a Joe.

Pizza was served.

Happy Birthday, Carl.

" Beg your pardon
Am I interrupting?
But there's something,
That's been bothering me.
When the wind blows,
It pushes me in your direction.
I can't fight it.

Any longer! "

- DJ Sumantri ft. Plural