... and then God created Men!

Him and Me

2011-10-29T18:06:00.000+02:00

I can't describe it any better. This clip touched me deep.
Let the visuals do the talking for me this time. This is what I'm living now...

:: Right Back

2011-09-15T14:48:00.001+02:00

I've been working on myself for the past, fuck knows how long. I stayed away from the usual things and dipped myself into the eccentric, bizarre, uncommon actions -whether that is partying, travelling, sex, changing my career, defining my real preferences in life, cutting out people, letting in new individuals, facing and solving personal issues or just facing and coping with several death news either close or distant.

I can say that I am happy with who I am today, right now. I have managed creating myself a new comfort zone, completely different than the old one. A newer place where I always wanted to belong; a distant dream it was. I still need to trim and enhance some of its aspects but I am pretty glad with what it is already.

Yet again I get very confused with my emotions: I never knew how to sort them out. How to understand them or define them. Am I a loner? Or am I convincing myself that I am one?

Relationships never worked for me. Twice in my life, and one of them was a challenge and "best fit" rather than just love. I feel asphyxiated, crippled and controlled. I get too obsessed by the person and his life. Jealousy, complete domination and anxiety. I just feel like I want to end it, cure myself and give him peace.

I start browsing and whoring on the dating sites, browser-based on mobile-enhanced ones. Partying. Loud music beats. Drugs. And feeling excellent. I am my own commander. Date and travel alone.

And then again it strikes me: I meet someone; even though he is in a 2-years open relationships; we can't stop texting each other all the time, listening to the electro beats all night while destroying bottles of whiskey, E, hash or just getting high just being there.

My last manjam, manhunt, gayromeo, gaydar login? Over two weeks now.

I am happy where I am now. I think I'll enjoy this comfort zone for a little while.

Put Your Hands On Me

2011-04-17T21:40:00.002+02:00

"I never watched Glee!"

"You'll love it", I answered as I was searching on my iPhone a couple of their performances. I put the TV on mute and got closer to him so we'd both watch the screen. I played a couple of Gaga's performances, Madonna, Katy Perry. He instantly fell in love.

I then remembered Mike Tompkins.

"He's super talented.", I said, "He boomboxes the whole music and sings along. On top of that, he has the cutest smile ever. Like.. wow!"

I then played Fireworks first; we got even closer on my sofa. Now, I could feel his breath. He smelled cigarettes and perfume. I picked the next video, "Teenage Dream and Just The Way You Are" and played it. A minute later, I noticed him turning towards me. Tension and attraction was floating in the air. I turned my head too... and our lips locked.

It was our first kiss. And his lips tasted good.

Untitled

2011-02-20T20:35:00.000+02:00

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

Gasp!

2010-06-19T19:21:00.001+02:00

:: Walk, Walk Fashion Baby

2010-06-11T17:48:00.001+02:00

I want your love and I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
I want your love and all your lover's revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Caught in a bad romance
Caught in a bad romance

Je veux ton amour et je veux ton revenge
Je veux ton amour

I don't want to be friends

:: Over and Under

2010-06-10T17:21:00.002+02:00

“Why did you stop dating him?”, I asked, hiding the real motive behind my question.

“He was double dating, both me and someone else at the same time. I accidently knew, how small this world is; and I just walked away from his life. I disappeared.”

I looked at him, while feeling that cool air breeze on a summer June Cairo night coming from the Nile. I shivered and wanted to better understand his idea about dating while trying to act indifferent about it:

“But it’s okay, I mean; he can date whoever he wants as long as there is no serious commitment there. You happen to be dating each other and he came across someone else; you’re not exclusive, but both of you are interesting and intriguing to him.”

“Yeah”, he answered while looking at me with his calm, deep, sparkling black eyes; “but I don’t do that, and I don’t put myself in such situation. I can’t double date. When I am seeing someone, I give him my full attention. I don’t believe that I would be able to divide this, or actually accept a piece of his full unconditional attention.”

I drew a cold smile on my face and turned my face. He was perfect. In all meanings of the word. He was elevating me to higher grounds.

Ever since we met, I started picturing “us”. Whenever my work friends ask me to travel, or go for a crazy paint ball game at Rehab, he pops-up in the back of my mind. I picture him tagging along with me. I picture him, in ten years, living together. It had been a while since I got that emotional rush. I has been a while since I got that fantastic rush.

“What do you think? Do you double date, Digg?”

He was direct. He just asked it. I never take that straight forward action. I smiled again and took a deep breathe. I neither wanted to sound ridiculous nor needy. It was too early to expose any feelings. It was too soon to imagine anything. My teenage mind controlled me:

“I rarely date to start with. I can’t remember my real last date; it’s basically impossible for me to double date”.

His look held many questions; I wanted to ask him if we could go steady. If this was for real. If he’d break my heart one day. If I could trust him.

I removed all my profiles from all dating sites. If at my age I couldn’t find someone to share my life with, what makes me find him in that meat market anyway? If I found someone who is highly compatible with me; why shall I bother checking empty messages and meaningless texts from strangers who can’t meet or satisfy my requirements and needs anyway?

Today, out of curiosity, I checked his profile’s link. He was online on that dating site. I don’t know how should I react or what should I say. I can’t face anyone with the bare truth because when I do it only means the end. I don’t negotiate, I don’t tolerate. I don’t want to listen to lies. I don’t want to put him in a I-have-to-lie situation.

It’s too early to put rules; but what about double-dating?

This is taking me under.

Under.

:: Longing

2010-06-06T14:28:00.001+02:00

You want to call him; but would it sound too needy? Pushing things?

Butterflies fill your stomach just thinking about him; most of the time you do anyway. You want to hear his deep comforting voice. You want to hear his cheerful, balanced yet real laughter. You want to just check-up on him, now that he’s travelling away.

Maybe just a text message?

Then you re-think that the last texts and calls were initiated by you. You try to fight your longing and missing just to keep a certain image. He has to call you first sometime. Even though he made it a clear and open invitation that you are welcome anytime to call him; that he misses hanging out with you; that he loved the one hour and a half making out session; you just have to make him want you more.

You are then afraid logging into your MSN account; because you don’t want to see him online and start wondering what he might be doing. You don’t want to login into any of the online profiles; not because you might be feeling that you found something good; but not wanting to ruin it by seeing his “last logged on” timestamp.

Thoughts and ideas start haunting you.

I am haunted;

and I am longing for him.

:: Straight… to bed.

2010-06-05T11:03:00.002+02:00

“I'm heterosexual and I have gay thoughts regularly, such as:
"Oh crap, this shirt doesn't go with these pants at all.” – some blog writer.

For the past few weeks, I have been fantasizing about a security guy who I had known a year ago. He had been guarding one of our work offices and, because of me being attracted, I befriended him. Even though I know for sure that he is straight, due to his never ending female problems, but I have strong doubts that he has some tendencies, like most straight men do. Knowing myself as a person who would never cross that line, not even because he might be gorgeous and inviting, but I can’t help but wonder, how many presumably straight men have I been with, and how far have they pushed the envelope?

Flashback during school. Hearing about “group jerking-off” nights where many of my friends back then used to watch porn and keep jerking-off all night. I wouldn’t dare joining them because I was worried someone would catch me peeking. I had to keep a good cover, and always a good excuse. One of those nights, Keram, a class mate and a neighbour, called me up, asking for some technical help with his PC.

“5 minutes and I’d be over”, I answered. I quickly changed in my army pants and a matching shirt and went over to his place. When I got into his room, I found lots of porn magazines laying around the place; while another porn movie playing on his computer. I laughed and said:

“You’d better clean this up soon mate, your parents wouldn’t be quiet happy finding this shit when they come back!”

“Don’t worry”, he answered, “they are off for the week-end to Marina, however apparently one of those porn sites fucked my machine and dad usually uses it. Can you fix it? It just keeps popping up out of nowhere porn advertisements!”

“A classic spyware problem”, I answered. I had to comment on that latino chick’s big boobs while I was at it. Keram gave a lusty look while fantasizing how gorgeous she would be on his bed, sucking his dick. The thought aroused me, especially that Keram used to be in Heliopolis club’s water polo team and boy, those men are always hunks!

“So, let’s see this system!”, I quickly said while closing all the advertisements and videos. “We need to clean up this mess”.

“Man, take your time! They won’t be back tonight anyway. Let’s watch some of those hot pussies before you fix the PC. I still have the night, just show me how to do it and I’ll clean that later. I just don’t want to corrupt it after fixing it!”

I felt uncomfortable. I wouldn’t get aroused on pussies. I had to make-up an excuse!

“You cockless bastard! Stop thinking with your dick!”, I didn’t know where did that come from, but I was planning an escape plan.

“Hell you think I am cockless?”, he answered quickly. I understood where things were going.

“Fuck you!”, I said laughing! “Let me fix this shit”. It was awkward. For me. Only me!

That’s when out of nowhere, he grabbed my cock.

“You’re hard man! Come on just feel comfortable dude!”

Damn. Damn. SHIT!

“Yo! What the fuck are you doing dude! That’s so fucking gay!”, I just said, last line in my defense.

We ended up with his cock in my mouth. How gay was that!

We kept on doing that for a while; he used to call me, and ask me to get over his place. We’d talk a bit, play some porn and just have casual, teenage sex.

Our friendship evolved from two buddies who used to go to school together; to two sex freaks who only met for that purpose. Years passed; he still lives next door again but we never say hi. We never talk. He went into deep denial of what happened, while I felt very bad that I lost a good friend; for sex.

I learnt. I learnt that I should think what is more important to me first: sex, that I can get from anyone, anytime; or a good friend.

:: Fear

2010-06-05T03:24:00.001+02:00

“Virgos keep their youthfulness and rarely show their age. In love, they have difficulty expressing themselves as they desire. They may seem self-sufficient, but they are happiest with someone to love and who loves them.”

I think I am dating someone; and it is scaring the shit out of me. I am not sure whether this is just another excellent teaser or is it really it. When I thought I’d never gamble, find someone, communicate with a person, be impressed by looks and mentality; he appeared. He just walked into my life. He just fit himself inside my agenda. He made sure that, slowly, I believe in him.

I am just scared. I am freaking out. I am starting to, unintentionally, build barriers which I am trying to break.

I don’t want to be hurt again. I just can’t take it anymore.

“Virgo’s domain in the horoscope wheel is the sixth house; the house of work, those one employs, matters of health and fitness and day to day activities. If a Virgo man cheats, it’s most likely that the infidelity will occur with someone connected to one of these activities like a colleague or someone he sees regularly at the gym.

The attraction can also occur with someone he has regular contact with everyday such as the person who sells him his morning coffee. Much in the way that Leo is more likely to cheat with a person working with him on a creative project (the fifth house), so too is Virgo more likely to cheat with someone connected to his daily routine.”

Based on this, both of us might cheat. How fun!

How scary!

Release Yourself!

2010-04-16T14:27:00.000+02:00

See You There!

:: So You Think You Can Impress?

2010-03-28T15:16:00.002+02:00

After a relatively long time of low profile and semi-dating a nice guy; I was invaded by the meeting-new-people desire. Randomly chatting with potential people; I narrowed down the possible people to meet to one guy: Seth.

We talked for a while over MSN followed by a couple of phone calls. He sounded balanced, human. He had his own way of talking, his own personality and hazy pictures. He was rather calm yet pushy. I just wanted to get into the scene again. I wanted to feel the rush of meeting someone new: anticipation, curiosity and the usual sex or no sex followed by the fading and no contact fact.

We agreed two days earlier meeting on a Friday at 10 PM. I arranged my day so I’d finish gym and pending work early in order to have a free evening. After my nap; I found a text from a friend who was hosting a house party. That was even better! I decided cancelling my date with Seth and rather buy a Black Label and hit the gig.

“Sorry Seth. I’ve got sudden work commitment. I have to cancel tonight” – a lie. Who cares!

I got ready and felt the partying pulse invading me as I was picking the right shirt-pants combination. It was a cold night; however the night owls, midnight wolves that we are always wear light and open shirts to show off the hardly earned body muscles.

I passed by Albert in Heliopolis for my alcohol gift and drove to Mohandessin. As I stepped into the house; Seth called me. As I was busy at work; I couldn’t answer him.

The next day I got a text:

“I’ll wait for you tonight”. I called Seth as promised:

“Hey! What’s up!”

“Cool. How was your night?”

“It was alright”, I answered.

“Cool. You know that I placed a sea food order for you so we’d have dinner? I forgot cancelling it and I just got fucked with the whole order”, he said; in a harsh tone.

“That’s very thoughtful but I think I cancelled with you early enough to…”

“Yeah I forgot cancelling it. It was so annoying preparing all this for you and you just don’t show up”

“Seth, dude, you’re freaking me out here. It’s not my fault!”

“Never mind. You owe me. Bring me a Toblerone bar. That’s how people make it up with me”

I felt a bit unsecured but just said:

“Well I’ll be coming over tonight.”

“You’d better. I’ll make you eat yesterday’s order”

I smiled. That was freaky.

I drove to Mohandessin again as agreed. I parked and called Seth:

“So which building are you?”

“Turn around. Walk towards that restaurant. Now get into this building. Go to the 7th floor”.

I went as guided and found his flat’s door open. Since he wasn’t there, I rang the bell. I heard him yelling from inside:

“Come in!”. I didn’t. I just stood there. At least he should be having the courtesy of greeting someone properly for the first time.

He suddenly crossed infront of the door, without stopping; wearing a white t-shirt topped with a light blue open shirt and dark blue jeans; and said:

“Come in, Digg. Come in!”

I was astonished. He looked uglier than the hazy pictures; a lot slimmer; bad hair cut and, above all, no proper host manners.

I walked in. He guided me to his room. There was a plasma TV infront of the bed. A mini fridge nearby and lots of candles. I sat on the bed, as I didn’t have any other option, and uncomfortable smiled. I lit a cigarette and said:

“Sorry for yesterday. I couldn’t make it”

“It’s okay. Got my Toblerones?”

“No”, I answered, clearly.

“I expected that”.

I held my tongue. I had a thousand and one answers that rushed into my head; but I couldn’t act mean in his place, first visit, sitting on his bed.

“Let me introduce myself”, he started. “I am Seth; you might know me from media”

I looked at him, no emotions, no comment.

He continued: “I am quiet known in the artistic field. Due to the nature of my work, my name and work appear in TV, newspapers, meetings”

Void. Who the cares what the fuck is he!

“Anyway; I had a previous relationship with someone great but had to end it for his own good”

“How come?”, I asked.

“He had to relocate his life in Egypt for me since I decided moving back here. He was suffering; couldn’t get adjusted in here; so I broke up with him in order to be able to go back to his country”

I had my eye brows raised in amazement. So far; all what I had in my head was a growing “EWWWWW!”.

“You know Digg, I wanted to meet you because I loved your mentality; your way of thinking. I was us to talk. I’ve got ID, want a bottle?”

I said yes. As he was going to the mini fridge, I started talking briefly about myself. All what I wanted that night was just talking to him and leave. He was freaky, looked bad and totally not my cup of coffee. I just don’t have the power yet of saying that out loud to someone; I just go with the flow, tam the conversation and crash.

“Sorry, I ran out of IDs, only this last one”, he opened it and started drinking. “I’ll place an order”.

He opened it and started drinking without even inviting me to have it.

He called Drinkie’s and asked them to hurry. He then asked me:

“What is your birth date?”, I answered.

He then said: “You’re a Leo. Interesting!”. He slowly picked up a marker then went to the wall behind his TV and wrote my birthday on the wall, right there, in black permanent maker.

“I know you understand this gesture. I want to keep your birth date infront of me. I know what that means to you.”

Yes. LOCO!

I smiled. A cold smile. His wall. His life.

We kept talking for 40 minutes. He shared his life while I was giving only the major headlines in mine. He was getting light headed with the one bottle of unshared alcohol and had the guts of kissing me on the cheek without any reason. I froze for a second then said:

“We agreed that this shall be a nice conversation.”

He then answered: “Well I was testing you. I want to see if you’re really into that or just sex”

That was getting even more and more awkward. I was feeling totally uncomfortable. We then started talking about how sexual gay people are and only caring for the outer looks. Amen to that, it’s true; who would care about the inner content if the outer package is fucked up?

He then sat next to me on bed and said:

“So if I asked you to hug me”. I tilted my head a bit then said: “So?”

He then added: “Just a hug. It’s harmless. What do you think?”

I replied: “Well it’s meaningless. Why hug you? There is no reason for that.”

He then smiled again and said: “You’re right, I like how you think.”

Ten minutes later I found myself talking about how important one’s look is. How wonderful it is to form a perfect inside out balance that isn’t fake or shallow. How important to be unique and different. I then said that I was doing my best to actually achieve something like that.

He suddenly changed his tone:

“You think you’re a good shot?”.

“Well I am just a normal person who is trying to be himself, not a copy”

“Let me tell you; you are nothing. You are not a big shot. You are not someone that people might look at”

I didn’t have any expression on my face.

“There is nothing special about you; that’s what I think”

I smiled then stood up.

“Well, Seth, I think that my time’s up in here. I have to go”

He stood next to the room’s door. I thought he’d close it; since he hadn’t opened it. I walked towards my jacket, wore it slowly while keeping the same cold smile on my face. I then said: “Enjoy you’re IDs, they’d go perfectly well with the left over sea food meal”.

He kept looking at me. I was worried shit. I opened the room’s door and I was stepping out he said:

“I won’t stop you; you can go if you want to”

I WAS going in case he hadn’t understood already. I went to the main door and as I was opening it, the Drinkie’s delivery guy was standing infront of me. I just went out and took the stairs till the car.

The funniest part was next day; I received a text from Seth:

“Hey Digg. Will you come tonight?”

Tic Toc. Tic Toc.

2010-02-05T04:15:00.001+02:00

Fascinating science is: dropping a mint inside a bottle of coke causes a huge effervescence. As shocking as it may sound, this has nothing to do with chemistry; in fact, it’s all about physics. What happens is that the gum Arabic in a mento reduces the surface tension of the water that is the main ingredient in diet coke. That reduced surface tension causes the carbon dioxide dissolved in the water to be released, and it does so with great enthusiasm.

Fascinating our emotions are: longing for someone while keeping that pressure kept inside is greatly released when he starts a conversation or you see him after a long time of silence. In fact, it’s all about our pride. What happens is that the hurt that we endure because of a bad action and mistreatment done by someone we had high hopes and enjoyed every single crazy moment with is actually frozen and controlled by a cold surface of pain and ego. Starting a conversation initiated by the other party or seeing him after a long time scratches that surface. That scratched pint in the superior frozen and protective layer causes all the suppressed memories, pain, hurt, longing, emotions, desires and fantasies to be released; giving you a certain unique feeling of effervescence in your stomach, spreading through your throat and hitting your brain.

Yes, he re-contacted me after months of silence. My silence of blogging as well.

:: Communicate

2010-01-15T14:49:00.002+02:00

As we stepped into his place, we hugged; for over 5 minutes.

I felt his heart beat pounding: I made him cry earlier. I walked out of his car after telling him all my darkest thoughts and asked him to go. He drove away then he stopped, called me again and asked me to come.

I got into his car again and he just asked: "Is that it? Is this the end? Is this how you want to leave?".

He was holding a napkin; and I couldn't answer. I was jealous. I was hurt. But I am not with a heart made of stone.

"As you said, we should get to know each other more", I answered, "Let's try".

As I woke up the next morning, for the first time I sleep on another bed than mine and actually fall asleep, he was holding me tight.

I looked at his face. I smiled. I am definitely worth more than just 5 fucks for him.

Back then, I didn't really know that I was much worse that this: I was just a challenge.

:: One Saturday Morning

2009-10-14T16:13:00.001+02:00

Saturday morning the sun is high so I can underline
All of my hopes to get out from my tears
So I, I can brighten

Will be sunshine in me
I'm living a life inside a broken life
Will be sunshine in me
I'm living a life inside a blinding life

Everyday morning I can play with the sun but I see you again
I wanna forget all your lies so I can go ahead, so I am

I can't stand off it
I'm turning around the same thoughts behind
I can't stand off it
I'm turning around the same thoughts behind

Saturday morning the sun is high so I can underline
All of my hopes to get out from my tears
So I, I can brighten

Will be sunshine in me
I'm living a life inside a broken life
Will be sunshine in me
I'm living a life inside a blinding life

I can't stand off it
I'm turning around the same thoughts behind
I can't stand off it
I'm turning around the same thoughts behind

Everyday morning I can play with the sun but I see you again
I wanna forget all your lies so I can go ahead, so I am
I can't stand off it
I'm turning around the same thoughts behind
I can't stand off it
I'm turning around the same thoughts behind

:: Smooth Operator

2009-10-12T19:25:00.003+02:00

Diamond life, lover boy.
We move in space with minimum waste and maximum joy.
City lights and business nights.
When you require streetcar desire for higher heights.
No place for beginners or sensitive hearts
When sentiment is left to chance.
No place to be ending but somewhere to start.
No need to ask.
He's a smooth operator.

Coast to coast, LA to Chicago, western male.
Across the north and south, to Key Largo, love for sale.
Face to face, each classic case.
We shadow box and double cross,
Yet need the chase.
A license to love, insurance to hold.
Melts all your memories and change into gold.
His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold.

No need to ask.
He's a smooth operator.

:: Ride With You

2009-09-28T13:46:00.001+02:00

As we were laying on the white sand of Northern’s Coast beach, enjoying the breeze and the sun while we were sharing one Heineken bottle, I asked him:

“How would you define Good Sex?”

He looked at me and said:

“It’s the one that you think of later and masturbate”.

:: Ride With Me

2009-09-27T00:24:00.003+02:00

"Cuz I believe I know I will find it
All I need is written within me
I was only asking if you'd ride with me
Through this thing called life
I was only asking if you'd ride with me
Through this thing called life"

- Nadia Ali. Embers.

For the first time I get home and reopen my date's profile, browse his two pictures and notice that he was wearing the same swim suite while I was with him. I smile, remembering the twenty-four hours I spent at his sea-side house. I genuinely enjoyed my time in an indescribable way doing all my most pleasurable activities, from sipping beer on the beach with his company to cooking, smoking a dubie, listening to chill out, deep and progressive house; and ending with sensational sex in the garden.

I fell into his laughter and hazel eyes. Different. Real. Experimented. Human.

I am just worried: I want more. Very much more. And it is scaring me.

Freeze

2009-08-05T14:11:00.001+02:00

He just told me, this very second, that he is getting engaged.

Alfie is inviting me for his engagement ceremony.

So, this cold grip I feel holding my chest, a bit of migraine in the back of my head and sudden silence in the chat screen while I am typing this blog. That’s how jealousy should feel like then!

Misunderstood?

2009-08-02T01:33:00.002+02:00

For the first time, after all these blogs entries that I have been pushing about people, someone on my facebook account that I used to see for a while wrote this about me. For the first time, someone writes something about me. It feels differently strange when someone perceive's what the others think about him. Now I feel how the persons I blogged about might feel if they ever read my entries.

:: Ménage à Trois

2009-06-12T19:58:00.004+02:00

My eyes are on you. They're on you.
And you see that I can't stop shaking.

- Elisa. Dancing.

One of my fantasies was not having a threesome – it actually was being “the third guy”.

I always fantasized that I wanted to be the third guest on a sex bed. Being wanted, kissed, sucked, controlled and lusted for by two other people; who are together.

As I have been advised by both my friends and TV shows, it is always best to be the third guy introduced on a couple’s bed – that way they both crave for you. They both want to satisfy you and totally want to enjoy you; since they have always been together. You’ll be their menthol, spicing up their sexual desires and collapsing their taboo; with another taboo!

When I got a message for a chat, the blurred face picture and firm body were inviting. He was visiting in 2 months Cairo and Sharm for ten days. He wanted to meet locals and have sex. As long as they fit my physical attraction rules, no other rules are applied. We chatted for a couple of days followed by Sacha asking:

“I’ve got a friend visiting with me; can I pass him your MSN ID?”

“Sure mate, bring it on”. I typed while thinking about how would that visit turn out to be.

A couple of minutes later, I was chatting with them both. I understood that they were boyfriends and that they wanted to have something new and exotic during their Cairo visit. Best thing describing both desires would be a threesome. They asked me if I was interested for one.

Since I never had a threesome, this was the best opportunity to try it out. A foreign couple visiting town for a brief short of time – sounded awesome.

Sacha was a quiet, sexy and desirable 25 years old guy while Kelly was older and unattractive. When I first met them in their hotel’s lobby, Sacha captivated my attention with his deep male voice and wonderful eyes. His confident look and fit body. His macho attitude with a feminine spirit. When I looked at Kelly, I was wondering how they both ended together. Not only Kelly’s look were shocking, but a twist of a feminine attitude could be sensed. Kelly was 36 years old.

There was a wedding in the main hotel’s hall; and as I usually do to break my fascination and first time cold meeting moments; I just grabbed them both and mingled in the middle of that wedding:

“I am sure you never been to an Egyptian wedding; let me show you how things happen!”

They both laughed while Sacha whispered something to Kelly. I could read their lips saying something about how different cultures were followed by Kelly asking me about the ceremonies and procedures.

We stayed in there for fifteen minutes then we left. I decided taking them in a quick city tour at night; seeing the most interesting points till their real tour next morning. I started with Heliopolis and its 100 years story with Baron’s tale followed by random places on the way that we came across. I showed them many of the important points and, of course, the Nile.

They were impressed. Egypt’s impressive indeed.

After a quick heavy Egyptian dinner in one of the authentic commercial restaurants and coffee, in which Sacha mentioned that if he was about to eat that Mars cake, he should work out like crazy to lose any gram he might catch. Kelly wouldn’t like him any different than how he looked – and he looked awesome! I decided gaining some time and drive around the city now that it was around one in the morning. Kelly was sitting next to me while Sacha was in the back seat. Drowned in deep silence, Sacha only said few words with his unique deep voice whenever he had something to add while Kelly talked all the time. I could barely see Sacha’s marvelous hazel eyes in my mirror; and he turned me on just sitting comfortably back there.

“So this is your first time to visit Egypt?”

“Yeah”, replied Kelly, “we really like it. We’ve been to Tunisia, Morocco, Algeria. Egypt is different. It has a great mix. I mean look at all those mosques your have in here! Are you that religious?”

“Well”, I replied, “religion is actually rooted in every Egyptian. It’s actually part of us growing up. We just believe in fate, destiny, God”.

“That’s just amazing”, added Sacha.

We talked about different things till I reached what I wanted to really talk about:

“So you guys, have been together for…”

“Nine years”.

“Nine years?”, I asked.

“Nine years”, repeated Kelly.

“I mean. Nine as in one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine… YEARS?”

“Nine years”, assured Sacha.

“And how old are you, Sacha?”; I asked while looking at him in my middle mirror.

“I am Twenty-five”.

“So?”, I looked perplex.

“Well”, said Kelly, “We met when he was 16. I was 27. When we met, I just fell in love with him.”

You fucking pedophilic!

“He was underage, Kelly! How did that happen?”

That’s when Sacha answered: “We’re together till this very moment, and I love him so much”.

I was that close asking: and why are you seeking a threesome; but they just answered that without me asking:

“We wanted to have a threesome as a new experience. We’ve been together for nine years and I want us to try new stuff to keep the fire up between us. We always fantasized about a threesome but as I told you earlier no hard sex or intercourse. I just can’t handle that yet; I don’t think I may tolerate it”, said Kelly. “So we met you, Sacha liked you a lot so I did. I think it’s going to be the three of us”.

I was overwhelmed with the “nine years” relation notion. I thought they were just new crazy couple who are into kinky stuff; but that changed everything. I wasn’t sure what would I be doing “in there”. I was very comfortable with the no hard sex agreement that we had but I felt drowned under the weight of being involved in the middle of a strange bound. That’s when Kelly hit me: “Let’s go back to the hotel”.

I parked and the three of us walked up. When I got into their room, both Kelly and Sacha took off their shoes and went freshening up in the bathroom. I switched the TV on and Sex and the City was showing. I couldn’t get comfortable on bed as I was very nervous about how things were about to go. Not only it was my first time to have a threesome, but I was in the one that I wanted to experience; yet I wasn’t feeling comfortable!

Kelly came out first from the bathroom and sat behind me. He started kissing my neck and I showed no reaction. I felt that I was the one cheating on my boyfriend; not him; even though that wasn’t the situation at all. I asked him to stop and he was confused. He then asked: Am I not attractive?

Sacha walked out of the bathroom and laid on his bed, switching TV channels. I shacked a bit to the thought that his 9-years-boyfriend was hugging another guy. I wanted to have some time to focus so I asked:

“How did you meet up, guys?”

“In fact it’s a very funny story”, started Kelly while caressing my body. “I was chatting with someone online and he gave me his number. When I called, it turned out to be Sacha’s phone. I don’t know whether that guy did it on purpose or just pure coincidence with me copying the number. When I asked about the name and it was wrong number, I just asked Sacha to wait and we talked a bit. We then met.”

He smiled then added: “Afterwards; we were sitting together in a restaurant. I ordered him a cake and I was having coffee. He was so shy and cute; not talking or eating at all. I then told him if he wanted me to kiss him, he ought to eat his cake”.

“He then took a bite; and that was it ever since”.

If it were me; I would have puked the cake on the table, on the spot. That was the cheesiest probably made up story ever; but Sacha was smiling, in a mysterious, sexy and gorgeous way. That’s when Kelly resumed:

“So let’s have something”; and he leaned again kissing my neck.

I couldn’t feel comfortable with all that; Sacha was watching TV while his boyfriend making out with a guy in the bed right next to him. In fact I wanted Sacha to be doing that. I just stopped and said:

“Guy; I feel something in wrong in here. Are you both sure you want to do that?”

Sacha looked at me. He didn’t smile. He didn’t nod. He just looked at me.

Kelly answered: “Of course! We’ve been planning to do that ever since we decided visiting Egypt. We would experience new things without limit in here. We’d try out our fantasies.”

I then added: “You won’t feel any guilt the morning after?”. Again Sacha was silent and Kelly said: “We are doing this out of the ordinary in a different country. It’s a fantasy we both have.”

I surrendered. I made it clear and they know what they are doing. Kelly started kissing me again; and that when Sacha got up and kissed Kelly. He then held my hand and we started making out, randomly. My lust grew more and more for Sacha now that he was topless between my arms. Lucky Kelly.

I found my underwear off and Sacha sucking me while Kelly was on my nipples. It was wild and lustful. That’s when Kelly’s 5.5 inch fat cock showed up; and he made me suck it with Sacha. I turned from sucking into making out with the hot boy. It went on for half an hour till Kelly whispered something in my ear. I couldn’t hear it at first, he then said it louder, making Sacha hear it:

“I’ll let you fuck Sacha if you let me fuck you”.

What?

He repeated: “You can fuck Sacha if you want. I want you to fuck him”.

That’s when Sacha went all flaccid. I felt it. I felt the second Sacha’s heart broke. I could see it on his facial expression, penis getting soft and the way he laid on bed. Kelly was pimping Sacha.

Talking about love.

I slowly got up, took my clothes and excused. I couldn’t resume; I couldn’t be part of that stupid meaningless, selfish, testosterone and self oriented desires of Kelly. I wanted to slap Sacha on the face and ask him to fucking wake up and look at himself in the mirror. I wanted to tell him that a hundred other guy would fall for his beautiful eyes and macho look while he is comfortable of being bottom in bed. I wanted to yell at him, asking him to fucking smell the God damn coffee and give all this energy of love to someone who deserves it; but I just couldn’t find a way to give him his 9 years back. To let him live his sweet sixteenth birthday as it ought to be. I just couldn’t help a tear that I held till I got into the elevator and remembered the love I shared before and how it can be easily gambled.

It was too sad. Sacha could have a better life and be more cherished. I couldn’t talk to him, I couldn’t tell him anything. I just hope he wouldn’t regret any of this later. He did all that against his will just to satisfy Kelly’s desire. Can love make us go that far?

Apparently being a guest on a threesome bed requires more than just a couple who want you. It needs someone much stronger than who I really am.

You, Who Made Me Believe

2009-05-28T09:03:00.001+02:00

All my live I have been searching
For someone honest just like you
You left me here without a reason
Every tear belongs to you

:: Now I Know, Don’t Be Scared

2009-05-14T19:03:00.001+02:00

There is much to be afraid of in this world. But what we fear has nothing to do with gruesome masks or plastic spiders or life-like monsters. No, it's the thoughts in our head that terrify us the most. (Shows Bree with Danielle) What if she comes to regret her decision? (Shows Susan sitting by the window watching Mike) What if he really is unhappy? (Shows Edie sitting by the window alone) What if the chance for love has passed forever? How do we conquer these terrifying thoughts? We start by reminding ourselves "What does not kill us, just makes us stronger." (Ends with a shot of Lynette, now in remission, watching her kids play).

:: untitled

2009-03-26T18:54:00.001+02:00

It’s killing. I’ve been keeping this for a while now but picture what happened to me in less than 24 hours.

Yesterday, driving home from Gym, I was dying to push a simple blog with Nadia Ali’s ‘The One’ lyrics. I typed those very same letters 24 hours earlier to him, the one. He suddenly broke into my life, collapsing all my doubts about love, intimacy, long distance relationships. He just rocked me from head to toes. I can’t find a better description to his looks than one of those underwear models you crave for, and for his personality as a world leader, and for his attitude with me as a lover boy. I reconsidered everything in my life, believed in what I thought cannot happen. Collapsed all the forbidden rules and started breathing again.

I wanted to create a simple blog yesterday, calling it ‘The One’ and embed in it:

That was 24 hours ago; before he comes online a few moments and slap me with the truth. Looks like I am too blinded by my anger and hatred to my previous relationship that I started implementing words, attitude and behaviour to people around me, making them devastated and, well, I turn out wearing a mask on top of the protective mask that ended up fooling my own god damn fucking self.

Can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t function.

He made me smile. He made me laugh and blush in shame. He made me crave and fall. He made me want to be a better person for him. He made me believe in myself again.

I am in love with him. I love him.

Now that he is gone, forever. It took me two years to realize that, but it was 24 hours too late. Twenty fucking four hours too damn late.

It fucking hurts inside of me. I think, since a long time, I am crying. Passionate one.

:: Irony

2009-02-22T13:41:00.002+02:00

“ A traffic jam when you're already late
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife

And isn't it ironic...don't you think
A little too ironic...and, yeah, I really do think...”

- Alanis Morissette

If I had this capability as I’ve been told of picking a few minutes in my life and strongly point a huge spotlight on it, expanding and transmitting all the feelings that crawl in my spine, down my stomach and up my brains; then this little story should be a wonderful treat.

I stopped joining many gatherings in Egypt for a while now. Not because only a few are worth a visit nowadays but I believe that I have gone out of that shell long time ago. I used to sniff around and wait to get invited to any of those home parties, not anymore, lost interest and I’d totally feel uncomfortable in one either.

However, I couldn’t turn down that invitation though when I was called up by a friend inviting me to Jeff, a dear good friend of mine’s, birthday party. I just squeezed my mind and couldn’t think of a gift to bring with me. I always believe that I will get inspired anytime; and that’s when it happened while I was chatting with Jeff:

“My tooth is killing me! I had it removed and the pain is really unbearable with the post effect!”, he said suddenly.

“Doesn’t your doctor give you any pain killer?”, I asked.

“He did but it doesn’t help at all. You won’t believe what I did though!”, he added, followed by a smilie face.

“What? Morphine injections?”, I pointlessly joked.

“Nah. Hash! I am smoking like a fucking old train!”

It hit me! What would be more meaningful as a birthday gift than a bunch of well rolled joints?

It was Thursday already and we were all gathered in my friend’s place. Some friend was DJing that night with good mix of music that actually met my taste. He wasn’t only that well into my crazy world of Trance, Vocal Trance and House; but he picked what could get along with the mood as well. I stood there, socializing with people as usual and poking fun out of any passing action. With a judgmental eye, I kept looking at people arriving and quickly classifying them in their appropriate category. I was eager to see new faces, if any existed, and socialize with some of those I lost contact with.

A couple of hours later, he walked in. I turned my face and looked at this newcomer. Looking at him took 5 seconds longer than the usual, I then looked away and smiled. I couldn’t find any pre-classified category to put him in. He needed a new one: Interesting People. I sighed and went to the kitchen to pour another Vodka-Cherry glass.

Since I only tend to observe and analyze rather than step in and talk, I kept following this newcomer and better understanding him. That far I learnt that he had perfect English, that he was a good dancer (judging his body moves when someone insisted that he’d step up and dance with him to the Latino beats). I also knew that he was a drinker as well but he wasn’t into smoking. He looked around his 27th year with his dark hair and finely tucked-in chemise. He seemed to be the kind of calm people but extremely wild if correctly poked.

When I noticed that he was talking to a friend of mine, I stepped in. He passed my first eye/action test, then was the time to have some conversation. I randomly talked about whatever subject they were discussing. He then told me his name:

“I’m Greg by the way. Nice to meet you!”

I greeted back and we resumed our talk. He was friendly, so friendly! He just took the initiative to break any ice and just let both of us mingle. I liked his way. In fact I acquired his move because of my fascination and believed that this is the smartest and most friendly action that anyone can do in order to break the first time meetings. We discussed trivial matters, but it was quiet interesting talking to him. His voice wasn’t that loud yet it was easily audible in that noisy environment.

Time flew and it was already 2 in the morning. Almost everybody left and remained the few people I knew, Jeff and Greg. That was the right time to take out my birthday gift and have a full internal celebration. I approached Jeff and said:

“Dude, how is your tooth?”

“Fine, I guess”, he said between a wine sip. “I guess alcohol is calming it a bit”.

“Well think no further buddy! Here you go. Happy Birthday!”, I said while taking out the joints.

“No fucking way I was craving for those!”, he yelled while taking a couple from me. “Light! I need light!”

I laughed and everybody came around. Seeing in their eyes the hash desire made me feel really excited and happy that I was able to draw that smile on their faces. A trivial gesture yet huge impact, that’s what I like to exhale in!

We all started smoking, that’s when I offered Greg to have a buff, he just declined. He wasn’t into hash and he looked really uncomfortable that Jeff was having:

“Dude are you okay? You’ll be driving stop it!”, said Greg to Jeff while I was talking to the latter.

“Nah, I’m fine!”, Jeff answered, unbalanced. That’s when I proposed that Jeff should take a cab that night. Not only because of hash, but because of the tremendous amount of wine he had earlier as well. Greg sighed and looked at me, blaming.

“Happy Birthday to the guy! Come on!”, I quickly said, shrugging.

My conversation, and fascination, with Greg grew as we continued talking. He turned out to be an Aviation Engineer who was living near my place as well. His music taste and movies-buff brain made me wonder if it was possible to have something with that guy, perfectly fitting in my twisted world. Each and everytime I meet someone who has the basic attractive points I need I can’t help but start thinking like a teenager girl if he could be the one, by any chance. Even though I am aware that my emotions were extremely rejected by my mind but I couldn’t control the fact that I still have emotions and hope even if they both are dismissed after the first sexual encounter of after knowing the person a little more on the personal level: Greg was just fine that far, and I was loving it.

Fourty-five minutes later and a couple of drinks with Greg after the joint I had, as well as two joints that Jeff burnt; and a couple others by everyone in the birthday night; my mind was rushing and jumping to ideas on what can be the next step that I should do towards Greg. It wasn’t my way to hit or ask anyone for a date but what if I needed to change my way? I might have lost very valuable dates that way already and I wasn’t willing to do the same towards that fine man.

I decided after finishing the drink I would say something cheesy like: Would you like to have another drink together? Like tomorrow around 10 PM or so? It would be too silly but what would happen anyway! We haven’t even exchanged our contacts that far.

“Diiiiig!”, quickly said Jeff while getting in my one-on-one conversation with Greg, “I see that you are talking to my beloved best friend Greg! Isn’t he adorable?”, I smiled and internally nodded. He was indeed.

“Greg”, Jeff continued talking, “You’re socializing well with people, aren’t you?”

“Yeah! Well everybody is nice around here and Digg is quite fun as well!”, answered Greg. Was he hitting on me? Was that a sign? Or was hash and alcohol playing me and understanding anything as I pleased?

“You know Digg”, resumed Jeff, “Greg is a great person! He’s getting married next month”.

ummm… what?

I froze right there. Here comes the “thing”. How could he without a “thing”. It’s impossible finding someone thingless!

“Getting married, are you?”, I emphasized while asking and reflecting in my eyes the fact that I was hit by a multistory van right in my chest, propulsing me a thousand kilometers away from reality.

“Yes, I am”, he answered with a cute smile.

Again, I asked: “To a woman?”

"They both laughed, then Greg said: “No, to my boyfriend!”. That’s when I felt I wanted to sit down and cry. Maybe take a corner away from all that smoke and faint lights and just cry! All my dreams breeze hit a big lifeless mountain.

“Geeee!”, I quickly said to hide all the amazements and disappointments on my face, “Dude sorry for all that I thought you were one of those pervert sick fags who get married to a pussy just to satisfy the community!”. Lie, but I am good at lying. Just like Ben from LOST.

“No dude! I am marrying my boyfriend in Amsterdam next month”.

I smiled, then said: “How long have you been together?”

“Almost a year now”, he answered. I couldn’t help stopping the flood of questions in my head:

“Why isn’t he here with you tonight?”

He said: “He has early work tomorrow and finished late tonight. I just came for Jeff. I couldn’t miss his birthday for the world!”

I smiled, that time, I was thinking about all the trust that they both have in each other. Even though it was a fag party, but the boyfriend trusted Greg. THAT’s love!

“This is amazing! Congratulations dude! I am so excited that people like you exist in this twisted world!”, I said while raising my glass. There went the next day drinks invitation. Let’s have the celebration tonight instead.

As I was leaving, wishing a happy birthday to Jeff and a happy marriage to Greg, I couldn’t help but think about Alanis’:

“ It's meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife

And isn't it ironic... don't you think? ”

:: Tantric: The Awkwardness – [Part IV]

2009-02-10T15:33:00.003+02:00

The usual dilemma I fall in: should I go ahead and sleep with my date, or am I going to lose interest in him as usual? It turned out to be that this was my ultimate test and never-failing experiment I undergo to better understand how attracted I am to a person. Newsflash: nobody passed that exam.

It kept bouncing in my head: am I going to sleep with Mica, in answer to all his straight forward requests, or am I going to come up with never ending excuses as usual? I quickly ran the silly checklist in my head:

Attractive: check.

Smart: check.

Successful: check.

French speaking: check.

Into me: check.

Presentable: check.

Of course he had to pass my checklist, otherwise I wouldn’t have been tormented about the fact sleeping with him versus ruining this beautiful something; hell, I wouldn’t even have mentioned him in many series on my blog!

His craziness made me both repulse yet made me feel wanted and fucking excited. After the night I drove him to his place and turning down his invitation to sleep together, I decided that I’d fucking jump into the action no matter what would happen. After all, he only had less than a week for his departure back to his life abroad. I didn’t know that the following night he would re-engage me into that action:

“Digg, I can’t hang out. Come into my place”. I smiled, thanks to the phone he couldn’t see the ironic grimace I drew on my face.

“Sure Mica.”, I said while getting off my car and seeing him wave from behind his house’s gate. When I got into the garden, he slowly turned and put his finger vertically on his lips: “Slowly.. my parents are here”.

huh!?, it popped-up in my head. Isn’t he living alone in here?

“Aren’t you living alone?”, I asked, lowering my voice.

“Yes, but they are here because their place has no electricity yet”.

Fuck! I hate being treated like a bitch!

I slowly walked into his place. Magnificent, I must say. Big huge halls, three floors high and you can see the three-stories distant ceiling greeting you with wonderfully hand made ornaments built in. The big brown wooden stairs in the middle of the off-white house and Persian carpets made me want to find the lamp and call the Genie out. I loved this place; and loved seeing him in it.

“Come over here”, he whispered while opening a door in the ground floor, leading to a small room. I walked in.

The room was empty, except for a small green carpet and dust. At that specific moment, I couldn’t understand what was I doing in there. I assumed it’s kind of a shortcut to another section of the house; but apparently my dream ended right there. He got me into that isolation room to have sex!

He moved towards me and boldly took off his shirt and pants: “Quickly! And don’t raise your voice”.

What the fucking fuck was he fucking doing! FUCK THAT!

“What the fuck are you doing?”, I said!

“Come on Digg, come on! Just don’t raise your voice. My parents are up there!”

“NO!”, I said. “What are you doing? What is this?”

Even though he looked damn sexy in his boxers, topless and holding his cock (yeah, I can’t help but smile while typing this); but there was something awfully wrong in this whole picture! I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Strange mixed emotions overwhelmed me! Was I the one who had high expectations and was clueless when it turned out to be just another fuck to him, or this rush of unexplained and unfortunate events made me speechless and mesmerized to the extent that I couldn’t even have a hard-on?

I ordered him to instantly wear his clothes and that we should move out instantly. He begged me to stay, then he tried physically forcing me to. I was decided and clear. “Just put it in your mouth”. God! Sane good looking people are extinct?

He angrily wore his clothes then, just like how we went in, we moved out slowly. In the car, it kept bouncing in my head what happened. As usual, he asked me to drive him to the old Gym he used to go to in order to meet his friends for a quick hi, then we could go and have some fish soup in Mohandessin.

I tried forgetting what happened, actually hanging out with him afterwards would let me shake those thoughts out of my head.

The night went smoothly then I drove him back to his place. He then asked me to drive around his quiet area a bit, just like the first time we met. As I was driving near one of the under construction houses, I slowed down just to find Mica taking off both his pants and boxers. That’s when I had the first visual of his bare naked cock. I was in shock! That was the extremely last method I wanted to get introduced to his cock!

“Mica what are you doing dude!!”, I said, astonished with this extremely strange and unnatural sequence of events. “Digg, just hold it would you?”. I didn’t have time to answer as a cab was approaching in front of us.

“Shit!!!”, he said while wearing his pants back. “Act normally!”, he added.

Fuck that how could I act normally? Nothing was normal that night!

“I think you should go home now”, I said while pressing on the gas.

I didn’t know back then that all of what has just happened was nothing comparing to what I would see next with him!

To be continued …

:: An Inconvenient Lie

2009-02-02T00:36:00.007+02:00

When I'm with you, 
I am taken,  
With the feeling that you've been chosen, 
What I'm longing is the best thing, 
In a long time that I'm not broken, 
 And I cant be without you 
So dont go anywhere, 
You show me love like no one else has done yet,
 And with the road ahead, 
This is the begining of this love story, 
Of this love story.

- Nadia Ali.

“Mum, how do we do Crêpes? It keeps sticking in the pan!”, I furiously asked my mother over the phone while extinguishing another fucked up pancake that I was vainly trying to prepare. I was running out of time, and I had to make it good.

“It’s all about the ingredients”, she replied, “make the easy one that I used to do. Listen carefully: mix 1 cup of floor, 2 eggs, half a cup milk and another half of water. Put a pinch of salt and melt like two small spoons of butter in there. Mix well and voila, you have your crêpes”.

“Thanks!”, I quickly answered while throwing my egg-less strange mix I prepared earlier. I hung up, looked at the wall clock: 8:35am. I barely had twenty-five minutes to go. Honey, jam and delicious Nutella were ready. Pancakes weren’t though! I could serve them alone, I always loved eating plain Nutella with a spoon, sparkling some sesame on top. Maybe do some grilled French toast instead? I am good at French toasts! God bless microwaves and grills.

“Two minutes, she said two minutes on the pan. It shouldn’t fucking stick this time!”, I said while crossing my fingers and trying to flip it. Indeed a nice non-sticky golden brownish side greeted me. I did it, almost on time.

8:57 am – even though I knew that nobody ever really respected his accurate time, but I had to prepare these pancakes before 9 in the morning. He told me that his grandmother used to do them and he never had better. Fuck yeah! I can server delicious pancakes as well, thanks to mum and to ready made jam, chocolate and miss bee.

He likes tea as well! I remembered that I had some tea from Kenya, courtesy of some friend I don’t remember (rude, but no time to remember names in this very limited time and challenge).

I prepared the breakfast table, made sure that the pancakes are well aligned four in every plate, topped with honey-jam or honey-chocolate mixture. Tea was in the pot as well as French toasts were on the table: my signature, how could I let it go?

As I prepared the table, I felt that time was going slowly. He didn’t know that I prepared all this: I wanted to see the surprise on his face. As I waited in the balcony, I saw his small black car parking somewhere near my parents’ place. My heart raced: I could almost visualize the expression that would draw on his face: he’d say hi to me, look at the table then draw a faint smile on his face and say: “What’s that?”. He would then go to the table and nibble, that’s when I would tell him to sit down and try my pancakes. He would, and he’d be pleased having this surprise breakfast. He’d also complain about his weight, blaming me that this meal would need a lot of trade mill and a lot of calories to burn after.

What the hell. Fuck calories. Fuck problems. Fuck break-ups. Fuck love or hatred: I would just enjoy seeing that on Mostafa’s face.

I just remembered this moment because Samer, my best friend, gave me back the ‘memories book’ that Mostafa used to write yearly about our relationship. I gave it to him in order to push it away from my sight and, specially for this reason, wanted to know if I was guilty anywhere in that 3-years long relationship I had with Mostafa.

Samer gave me back the book a few days ago, asking me to do whatever I please with it. Destroy it, burn it, keep it or just, in this case, blog about the first thing that popped-up in my mind.

I really loved that love story.

Thinking about Nadia Ali’s melodic voice, tunes and lyrics; as well my twisted mind; it just occurs to me what happened to Deborah Morgan in Dexter show. Because she dated the Ice Truck Killer; she lost faith in relationships afterwards. Her great doubt made her stay away and not try to start or keep on anything. Her constant doubt and lack of security made her brutally accuse Gabriel, a very fine date and lover.

She was lucky she found Gabriel at the first place! Someone who was not only hot, but the one who would totally understand and get along with her psychopathic, sick, tormented and hurt soul from her past experience. The perfect package, but hey! It’s just a TV Show.

I dated someone finally, I tried. I swear I did try to date someone and I did my best to invest my power; but it just ended. I was worried that I was taking a very dangerous edge; since the last chat that we had together made me explode in a hysterical laughter. We had a cold and frigid chat after a 10-days business trip he had:

Me: Hey.

Date: hi.

Me: :) Are you back?

Him: You know I am.

Me: No I don’t, because I sent an SMS on Friday and it didn’t deliver!

Him: Well, I got it and I answered it.

Me: It didn’t deliver and I did not receive any answer from you!!! (this is the truth – it seems that the network is also helping me to screw up everything).

Him: OKay.

-- silence --

Me: Why the attitude?

Him: Bos, plz don’t talk to me again ana 5alas keda gebt a5ry mennak.. it’s over.

(Look, please don’t talk to me again. I just reached up to here from what you do. It’s over!).

I laughed. I laughed like crazy. I can’t really understand if it was a relief laughter, or just trying to comfort myself that I was a big failure (and just proved myself) that I couldn’t and wouldn’t even start a relationship or any kind of love bound with anyone anymore. Maybe because he wasn’t prince charming? Nobody is; nobody will.

I just answered: OKay. And that was it.

OKay.

I believe what I would feel comfortable with is my actual life style. It might sound repulsive to some people, it might sound tempting to others but, hey again, that’s me and everyone tries to reach his balance. I just blew someone off in his place a few moments ago. His mother was outside (talking about his fetish to do sex in danger) and I didn’t mind. I liked that we said “bye” afterwards and left. I loved that, before I get in my car, asked him: ya dude, did you listen to Nadia Ali’s new single? He answered: “hell yeah! that bitch rocks!”

I drove off back to my place, laptop opened, music uploaded and blog typed.

Make and follow your own rules and never regret the past – I know I try to do.

Thank You

2008-10-30T22:16:00.003+02:00

Thank you for your visits and votes!

:: Delirium

2008-10-08T12:30:00.007+02:00

“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

2008-10-07T14:45:00.001+02:00

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

2008-09-08T20:44:00.003+02:00

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

2008-07-21T15:54:00.004+02:00

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

2008-07-17T12:28:00.004+02:00

" 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]

2008-07-07T23:38:00.003+02:00

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]

2008-06-07T03:22:00.005+02:00

"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]

2008-05-25T23:04:00.003+02:00

" 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!

2008-04-23T20:04:00.002+02:00

May 1st, 2008

See you there ; )

:: So This Is Goodbye

2008-03-12T12:21:00.004+02:00

"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!

2008-03-06T23:26:00.002+02:00

Poll 1

Poll 2

:: Boy, interrupted!

2008-01-29T12:37:00.001+02:00

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

2008-01-15T20:06:00.001+02:00

" 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

:: FUCK ME, I'M FAMOUS!

2007-12-17T02:03:00.001+02:00

" Electro Love. Electro Drum. Electro Sex. Electro Cum. Electro Heats. Electro Suck. Electro Beats. Electro Fuck.
I got the DJ spirit inside of me. It so feels good. It takes control of me.
I'm a Party Animal. Party Animal.
I wanna fuck your body. "

- David Guetta, Fuck Me I am Famous Podcast [September 2nd, 2007] - minute 10:54

See you there ; )

:: Intoxicating

2007-11-21T11:32:00.000+02:00

I just can't get enough
It's the feeling that I love
(Intoxicating)
I just can't get enough
(Exhilarating)
It's the feeling that I love
I've never felt, like this before
I've never wanted, lovin' more
I just want to say I need you
And it feels good when I'm with you
Can't you see
I Just can't get enough
It's the feeling that I love
(Intoxicating)

Even though I am not used to blogging about an actual event that hadn’t ended yet, I couldn’t help but letting this one out, hoping that I would really reach an inner closure that would help me move on with what had been going on and the way it evolved.

When I saw him coming online after more than a year, I haven't had in mind any clue that I would be falling that deep for him. Something about Carl's new display picture captivated my attention, and I was thrilled when he started the chat:

"Wuz up dude?", the MSN window popped up.

"Fine mate, what about you?", I answered, eagerly wanting to know more about that hot guy.

"All's cool, so ur frm Cairo?", he asked quickly.

I confirmed. He then said:

"Am coming 2moro night. Care to meet?"

As if he was asking if Winnie the Pooh loved Honey.

"Sure! When will you be here?", I asked.

"Around midnight, he said, I'll call when i'm on my way".

I was excited, just because of a picture and a simple date. I liked the way Carl sounded over the chat. His simple straight forward date and meet way was captivating. He then said:

"You know, we really need 2 hire an IT manager in our company here in Alexandria. Care 2 send ur CV?"

I was puzzled: usually -according to the local gay rules in Egypt- we tend to keep our identity unknown, especially when it comes to where we work or live; but Carl just went to the next level sending me his business e-mail, as well as the Human Resources one in order to forward my Curriculum Vitae. His simple and innocent way only made me feel wilder and more attracted to him.

The next day, as agreed, Carl called me at 11:30PM.

"Digg, I am in Master on Alex Cairo desert road. I'll be there in like an hour. Still down?"

"Yeah! I am actually in Maadi with a friend. By the time you're in Cairo I'll be done."

"Cool, see you then cute!".

Those 60 minutes flew, and I was driving to Mohandessin in order to meet him as scheduled. While driving near Mostafa Mahmoud mosque, I had that strange feeling that I will see him before I park and boy was I right. Right in front of me was his car. I kept horning and flashing the lights while calling him:

"How incredible is this? I just recognized you and I felt like we'd bump into each other before setting a place to meet!"

"Duuude!, he quickly said, that's awesome! Park here!"

When I opened my car's door, there he was waiting for me, even sexier than the pictures and more attractive than I pictured him to be: Carl was one of those guys whose pictures weren't giving him his real share in his natural sexy self.

When I got in his car, he was playing David Guetta's Sensation White 2007 track.

"So you're into House music?", I asked.

"Dude! I am totally living for House, Trance and Techno. While driving to Cairo, the beat was my companion all the way long!"

My man! I thought. He kept impressing me more and more with his little details and twists.

"You look tensed", he then said.

I was. Not only because I had a hectic day and an incident happened with the guy I was meeting in Maadi, but I felt intimidated by Carl. He had many things that I loved to acquire: the real organization between Work life and Fun life -he had the concept that I always kept in mind "work hard, party like an animal".

Recently, I had noticed how I become quickly intimidated by people who impress me. I tend to reflect the silent guy feeling -boring maybe which doesn't fit with my outgoing persona. I might relate that to the fact that I worry that the person who I see better than me in certain fields might lose interest in me if I let the inner me out. While I see that being myself is one of the unique people that might be encountered, I worry that me wouldn't match with him. I have experienced that in several dates and I became sure about it when I totally overcame the intimidated feeling, I totally change and reflect the raw, simple and talkative me.

Carl stoke me with his music, lifestyle and looks. His 212 perfume played on my strings while he scrolled his Nano, streaming the beats that he liked most. Seeing me enjoying more and more, he turned the volume up letting the drums flow from his Xplod car stereo and hitting me right in the heart of my soul. He then opened the gloves door and took out a rolled butt of hash:

"Smoke up?", he asked while handing it to me.

I hadn't smoked hash before, but I was willing to. I believe that partying not only requires alcohol, but mixture of exctacy, hash and a hot date. I gently refused, not only because it would be my first time, but I didn't see it suitable smoking in the car -what would happen next after being stoned?

He then handed me a Marlboro and lowered the sound while asking:

"So, Digg, what's up with you ya walad?".

I smiled, intimidated, then answered:

"I am feeling great! I love the music, the company, everything!"

He laughed then said:

"So, tell me more about you, boy!", I knew that this his familiar slang with his friends since he never stopped saying it even while answering the phone.

"Well, what would you like to know about me?", I asked, trying to keep the conversation alive while not sounding that boring. I really had nothing in mind to say, or; in other words, the rush of thoughts kept my tongue frozen.

"Anything about you! You ever been in a relationship before? Have you been abroad? What's your favorite food!".

I instantly thought about my ex partner. I knew I wouldn't stop myself talking and talking about how good it was, yet devastating at the end; but I had taken a promise, right after I wrote the Him series entries that I would totally abstain myself from falling in that dark pit again. I simply talked about the highlights, preventing myself from talking about lousy details.

After a few talks, he then said:

"More beat?", I nodded.

"I like this track, a bit old, but amazing!", he said while scrolling his iPod. Beats started sounding and I recognized the song. I had forgotten about it, but it stroke me hard, especially when Maya was melodically rhyming: "For the first time, you've got me baby!". He really did get me, and I was loving it.

We kept driving around, singing along and raving in the car. It felt good connecting with someone who had most of the shallow things that attracted me to anyone: the looks, the perfume, the music, the urge of living large! When we started talking about Nadia Ali, I wanted to bring my iPod from my car in order to play the awesome Recon Mix for all her songs. We parked next to my vehicle and when I played the music, Carl just laid back relaxing in his seat touching me with his crossed leg. While spinning the tracks, his warm touch started exciting me; and I was more worried that I would screw everything up with any unexpected silly move or word. I had to balance my look, attitude and even the way I moved with the music. I started doubting if I don't trust myself anymore!

It was almost 3 AM by then, and I had early work day the next morning. He touched my leg with his finger then said:

"So, boy, what are your plans for tonight?"

I looked at the clock and acted as if I didn't know the time; then said amazed:

"Shit! It's freaking late already!".

He smiled then said: "You don't have to drive back home, you know; you can spend the night with me then head to your office in the morning."

I tried finding a convincing excuse not staying, simply because I was extremely intimidated by him; and I wanted to make sure that we'd meet again. I had that obsession that if we have sex, he might never call me again; and that would really hurt me and destroy the efforts that I was invensting. I wasn't seeking for a boyfriend, neither a steady fuck buddy -but I just wanted to extend those moments; as if they will never end. I wanted to feel the rush; the excitement; the pleasure. I didn't want to screw all that with sex that would leave me broken hearted afterwards. I know my idea about dating might sound strange: things evolve from one stage to the other, yet I always wanted to freeze anything in its first stage, worrying about what would turn out later to be.

I quickly answered:

"I would have loved to, but I need to be formal and I don't have my suite with me."

"Are you sure? You can always leave an hour earlier and quickly go home. Roads will be empty by then."

I was scared. I shouldn't go home. I mustn't go home. I do not want to screw things up.

"Next time I promise you. Listen, I am coming next week-end to Alexandria! What about that? It has been a while and we'll have all our time."

He smiled; smartly, then said:

"That would be terrific!"

It was time for me to leave. I did well so far. While leaving, he tried lip kissing me, but a simple head twist made sure his kiss would land on my cheek.

Why am I complicating everything?

Like a school kid, as soon as I got home, I texted him:

Hey! It was quiet charming seeing you tonight : ) Loved the music.
Will see you this week-end in Alex then if all goes well. Hope you're cool with it : )

I waited for answer. I received none; slept holding my mobile; and woke up disappointed.

When I reached the office, he was online and initiated the chat:

"Hey dude! How r u?".

Excited, I answered:

"Great, you woke up early this morning.", I said, trying not to ask him why he hadn't answered my previous night's SMS.

"I barely slept for 2 hrs. I went home at 6 in the mornin. Was out with a friend."

I cannot quiet assure what I felt was jealousy, but more like a threat. Was he cooler than me? More entertaining? Did he enjoy his time with him more than he did with me? Is that why he hadn't texted me back?

I shook all the paranoid questions off my head then said:

"So you should be picking up your friend from the airport shortly, right?"

"Yeah, he answered, his flight got delayed a bit so i'm just relaxing on bed, stealing wireless from my neighbor!"

I smiled. He then said:

"It was so fun meetin u yesterday really. Did u enjoy it?", about time he would ask about it, comforting me.

"Yeah, I loved the music and the company", I answered, trying not to sound too excited about him.

I quickly typed:

"Wait I make reservations in Alexandria!"

"Cool", he answered.

After confirming everything I announced:

"Next Thursday I will be in Alexandria for two nights!".

He was excited about it, or at least that's what I thought then. He had to leave soon after in order to go to the airport, promising me a good time when I will be in Alex. It was Monday, and I couldn't wait. I promised back that I would call him that night to make sure he arrived safely back home in Alexandria; and he said he would be expecting.

6:43 PM - ringing. No answer. I thought he would be sleeping. I give him his excuse.

11:56 PM - ringing. No answer. Is he hibernating?

12:27 AM - I sent an SMS wondering if everything was alright. No answer.

I haven't called back; but waited for any sign. It was Wednesday night and I was worried going to Alexandria and end up, again, lonely and isolated; that time for two nights in a row.

When I reached Alexandria on Thursday morning, I just gathered my strength in order to break my pride and sent him:

"Digg is in Alexandria"; and I forgot about it. I settled a couple of dates and friends in order to pass a somehow pleasant stay there.

All day no call, no sign, no answer. I couldn't understand why he had totally changed his idea about me. I believe he had passed a good time with that single night we spent together, he admitted it himself the next morning initiating the chat with me. If I was just another boring person, he would have blocked me or had made up a million excuse not to see me on Thursday. I was sure he sounded excited when he knew that I would visit him the week-end after.

What the fuck went wrong then? It was haunting me, and eating me up. That's when he called around 8:00 PM. I waited for several rings then answered, again, hiding any emotion or feeling I had:

"Hey you! How are you?"

"I'm good dude!"

I quickly said: "I am in Alexandria!"

He answered: "Yeah, I know! Listen, what are your plans for tonight?". I jumped off the bed, while keeping the same monotonous speech:

"ummm, nothing much I believe. I am with a friend now staying for a while, then no plans later at night."

"Cool then, I am going out with my office colleagues for a shisha then, let's say, pass by you around midnight?".

"Sounds great!", I answered, bouncing with pleasure.

I spent the remaining hours with my friend, counting the minutes till the time we meet. At 10:24, he called:

"Hey boy, what's up? Still with your friend?"

"He's leaving now actually, so what's up with you, boy?", I said.

"Look, my friends here want to have a drink and smoke up a bit, I'll call you after, cool?"

After? Smoking and drinking will disconnect him. There is no after in this case! Was he canceling our outing in a smart way, then close his cell or not answer my calls like he always did and disappear? I agreed to wait after, I had no choice.

I waited for an hour, burning. I texted him then around 11:36 PM:

Mate; I am mega tired. I guess I will hit the bed now.

No answer. I wore my best shirt, locked my belt, sprayed my CK's Crave perfume and hit the bar: if I weren't going to go out with him, let the alcohol be my companion. I ordered cocktails, tequilla shots and somewhere in between, I wanted to text him again. Alcohol made my real desire pop up, and I was desperately in need seeing him again. I just phrased:

They keep fucking knocking in the hotel somewhere for renovation. Can't really sleep! Listen, call me up if you're on for something later - I might be up.

How desperate can this be? I was worse than a horny Susan Mayers, even way beyond Gabrielle Solis' lies in order to hunt a guy.

Totally drunk and off mood, I came back to my room. Slowly undressing and not even caring to change my clothes, I slipped in naked under the sheets. At 2:15 in the morning, my phone rang. Carl was still up:

"Heeeeyyy boy!", stoned, drunk he was -not better than me.

"You finally called!", I answered.

"Still up?", he asked. "Yeah", I answered. "I will be under your hotel in 5 minutes!".

I jumped in the shower, then my clothes and tried maintaining a straight walk while rushing down the 11 floors in the elevator.

There he was waiting for me downstairs in his car, with fresh beats of David Guetta.

When I got in, I could see how wasted he was; and I loved it more. He turned me on even beyond, with alcohol screwing both our logics.

He warmly welcomed me, and started driving; trying to keep the car going on one lane. He then quickly proposed having a party: the mood was set for that blast. He called his friends and were all coming to his place in Agami. Quickly; he drove us to his villa; parked, took his iPod and laptop and walked in. In less than 5 minutes, an experienced after parties host, he set everything up and the beats were rocking the area.

Everything was terrific: the music, the booze, atmosphere and most of all: the mood. Seeing him dancing me, turning me even wilder and in horrible desire to hold him close and taste his lips. Around 5 AM people left, leaving us with the music and the lust. He lowered the volume while keeping the projector on displaying some Sensation White event on the wall, hugged me on the sofa where I was sitting and softly whispered in my ear:

"Not tired yet?", I smiled and slowly tilted my head backwards to rest on his shoulder and said:

"I'm down for anything". He held my hand and massaged my back. It felt good, so good. He then said:

"So you're spending the night with me?". He then added: "I guess we're too fucked up to drive back to the hotel anyway!"

I nodded; he gently held me and while closing the laptop's lid, slowly pressed his lips against mine. Electricity went through my whole body. He touched my back; and I swooned while listening to the distant beat. He then pulled me to the bedroom, while saying: "Let's play something soft" -and by soft he played Nadia Ali.

On the bed, we both laid back. He held me; just held me tight, my head on his chest; and started talking. For over 45 minutes we just talked about many things. I let out some of my feelings regarding my ex partner, explained to him how good I was feeling and most of all, for the first time, he talked to me about his previous relationship:

"We stayed for 3 months together, he was playing me!"

I turned a bit while wondering why.

He continued: "He was in relationship with some guy; and was with me as well!"

It suddenly flashed before my eyes; I wanted to make sure that he was talking about the same person I thought he could be.

Carl kept on talking: "When he introduced me to him, he said he was his close friend. I believe he had told him the same thing. When I knew the real nature of their relation, I just ended everything. I couldn't bare the lying and deceiving he was doing. A big lie, his life."

When he told me more about the guy, I knew he was talking about the ex boyfriend of Miky, my Enigma guy. Miky told me about a similar story and I quickly related. How small the world could be? There I was, sleeping in the arms of the man who Miky hated most -and it wasn't his fault.

While talking, I was caressing his arm; and when we reached the peak, Carl moved on top of me and started kissing me softly. His experienced lips and tongue were perfectly making me burn and asking for more. His little games and our comprehensible and playful moaning were our language along with our bodies'. While undressing him and taking off my shirt, a whole sensation of comfort surrounded me. I felt right; so right. As if the universe made sure that I would be there that time, that moment, that instant enjoying him and letting all my desires out.

He was kissing my neck when he stamped a love bite. Even though I don't always like it, I wanted to keep one from him. I didn't care about what my colleagues at work would say, or even my friends. It was right; and it had to be correct all the way long. As if he knew my method, he followed the same slow undressing rate, making sure that he would let both of us discover each other's bodies in every stage: fully dressed, shirtless, without pants and letting us explore each other's bodies slowly, extending the desire and making sure that the flood of adrenaline and testosterone flood intensively in both our veins; making them in contact by our lustful kisses and touches.

If all this pleasure was a sin, I'd rather live as an atheist.

For 4 hours, we had sex, listening to the beat slowly surrounding us. Carl was good, and it was right. When we were done, he gently kissed me; and held me tight. Like an embryo, he made sure he was inside of me. Tightly, I surrounded him with my arms and legs. He slept; and I watched him sleeping till tiredness took control of my eyes; and slept.

Since it wasn't my bed, half an hour later; I woke up. Even though the blinds were shut, light was reflecting shadows in the room. For a second, I had to realize where I was, and when I felt his warm body still sticking to mine, I smiled; then slept again.

Around 11 in the morning, we both woke up by my alarm sounding in the living room. Carl smiled when he opened his eyes, stretched, then quickly went to bring the mobile to me. I quickly turned if off while dismissing the messages that I received: I didn't want to get disconnected by anything during those precious moments. I made sure I'd save shots of every thing in my mind.

"Let's go?", he proposed while stretching again on bed. I knew he had errands to do since Friday is his only day off. We quickly dressed and collected the remaining of the previous night's wild party. When I got in his car, I loved the way he looked totally fucked up and tired. When I looked in the mirror, I was worse; especially that I hadn't had much sleep at all. When he dropped me infront of my hotel; Nadia Ali's Rebel song was sounding in the car; and in my head.

"See you later, ya walad", he said while driving off.

He hadn't called me again that day; and I didn't want to call him because I didn't want the possibility that he wouldn't answer me spoil the great feeling I was having.

When I got back to Cairo, and knew about David Guetta's concert in Sharm, scheduled December 20th 2007, I quickly thought about Carl. When I was waiting for him to answer; I was hoping he would pick up.

"Hey dude!", he greeted me.

Relieved, I answered: "How are you? How is it going in Aelx?"

"It's great over here! Tell me, what are you up to?"

"So you heard about David's concert?", I quickly said, hitting right into the subject.

"No way dude! Are you serious? That would be a fucking blast!".

"Yeah; it's rocking! Listen, I already made reservations in Marriott Sharm just in case. I have two spare rooms, would you like any?", I was hoping he'd say yes; and it would have been amazing if he would stay in my room instead.

"Yeah; sound great. Listen, my cousin will be coming with me, so make it one double room for us", better than nothing, I thought.

"Deal!", and I hung up.

Three days later, I knew about Tiesto's featuring Nadia Ali and Jess concert in Sharm as well on December 2nd. After making the reservations in the hotel, I called Carl. No answer. Three missed calls, and no answer. I sent a message:

"Hey mate, call me when you get this text, I've got hot news!"

He hadn't called back; and I was disappointed. I was really wondering by then what was my situation with him: how does he see me. Who am I to him? I don't want to accept the fact that I am just another guy he slept with; yet that was the concrete truth.

The next morning, Carl was appearing offline on the MSN and initiated the talk:

"How are you, boy?".

Till when would I hide my feelings?

"So Tiesto on the 2nd!", I announced.

"Yeah", he typed, "I might go, not sure yet!"

"I've got rooms reserved just in case."

"Well; if I will go, I will be having other plans since I know the organizers"; he answered.

And the chat ended; as fast as it started.

By the following Thursday, I got a call from him:

"Three words: Marco V in Thrust", he said as I answered.

"I know! I am going mate!", I said all excited that he finally called me for the first time on his own.

"Great! I will see you there then.", he said.

While being in the newly opened club with my girl friend and a date I had fixed with him that escapade earlier; and while dancing totally wasted by the alcohol and the music, Carl called:

"We are on our way; how is it?"

I tried to yell as much as I could in order for him to hear me: "It's rocking dude! Come quickly, Marco is already spinning!".

He said something I couldn't hear. He texted me instead:

"Do you have extacy?"

I replied: "No, I couldn't arrange any and my extacy friends didn't show up!"

"I am on my way", he answered back.

While dancing on the stage with my date and my girl friend, I spotted Carl next to me. I slowly went next to him among all the drunken fellows and pinched him. He slowly turned around and when he recognized me, we hugged and motioned that the music rocks. I so wanted to tell him that everytime I saw him, he just made me fall too deep. What is wrong with saying emotions out loud? Why do we always tend to control them? Is it the fact that we are afraid to be disappointed? If so, isn't the whole life a series of disappointments that you only experience and recognize when you dare doing something and take risks? My date came closer to me and Carl looked at him in a peculiar way: I couldn't actually identify whether it was jealousy or just curiosity and wondering who that hot dude could be. He had a phone call, and went off the dance floor.

Two hours later, while walking out, I found him relaxing with his friends in the Intercon's lounge sofa. He waved at me. I quickly walked and saluted him. He said hi to my date and then said: "After party at my place! I tried calling you but your phone is off!", I took out my i-mate and found it out of charge. By that time, my date was feeling uncomfortable and had to leave. I quickly suggested that I would drive him and asked Carl to wait for me, since there was no mean of communication. He confirmed. My date insisted on leaving alone, but I couldn't do that to him, especially that he I had known him for years before but things didn't work out because 5 years ago, he had to leave Egypt and work abroad.

It took me one hour to take the car out of parking: everybody was sleeping and I was irritated as time was flying. I wanted to go back to Carl and spend the night in his After Party. While driving my date; he slowly said:

"Your friends, they look strange".

"In what way", I answered.

"I don't know, they don't look comfortable to me."

I smiled then said: "They are the party animals friends. Drugs, music, after parties, alcohol!"

He took a deep breath then said: "Could you not go to that after party, please?"

I smiled; and didn't answer. I wanted to go. Carl was mesmerizing me.

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

Even though we occasionally chat together; Carl and I, and even though I am dying to call him up -I just can't make it. Since he hadn't invited me to join him in Tiesto's concert after that my friends won't be able to make it and explaining to him that I would go alone, I might not make it after all. I believe I'd better be waiting for David Guetta's concert instead, since he will be with me in the same hotel.

What are my expectations? Very high; and that's my problem. What makes me always feeling down is the fact that I always expect very high actions from the guy that I have a crush on; instead of thinking correctly and keeping in mind that we are both enjoying the moment -and that should be enough and fulfilling.

Carl fascinated me with his lifestyle; and that's what I discovered in my journey so far: everyone I had a crush on wasn't for who he was, but for what he had that impressed me. I try to copycat it and make it mine; and once I acquire that specific point that made me fall, I just walk away. No one of my dates; including those I blogged about, made me like him as in himself. It's always something in him.

It took me a while to figure that out; and it scares me a lot.

Till David Guetta's concert day, if you happen to pass next to a car that is playing loud House music, specifically Maya's "For the first time", probably it is me; remembering how fabulous it was with Carl; and wishing that on the David's Guetta's night; I'd be having some After Party in my hotel room with Carl. I surely can't get enough of him; and I am asking for more; even though it's quiet intoxicating.

Everytime I'm with you
And everytime we meet
I just stop myself from telling you
I'm falling too deep
The way your'e walking by
And the way you caught my eye
And the way I feel so bad when we say goodbye
For the first time
You've got me baby

:: Fags and the City

2007-11-19T01:17:00.000+02:00

I hesitated a bit before announcing this -

Mithly.com is a fairly new Middle Eastern Gay blog that was launched a while ago. It is based on submissions by the users and managed by three Middle Eastern guys who keep in mind one thing while producing each new monthly issue: away from traditional problems and hitting on fashion, lifestyle, music and life; as well as Sex.

Lestat de Lioncourt, one of the founders and editor of the column "Fags and the City" under "Sexology" section is nobody but me. Within the articles that I wrote, you might discover a totally different personality: the sexual/raw me!

Note that all my writings in there are also inspired from real life situations; including the "box".

Feel free checking my articles:

- "Break Up? Break You Up!" : http://www.mithly.com/archives/feb07/sex.htm

- "Honey, Fetch!" : http://www.mithly.com/archives/mar07/sex.htm

- "I Glow!" : http://www.mithly.com/main/sex.htm

- Mithly Magazine: http://www.mithly.com/

Happy reading!

:: Brave

2007-10-21T19:23:00.001+02:00

As I was driving back from Maadi on the Ring Road, and right before reaching Al-Taawon Gaz Station, my cellular announced an incoming SMS. Slowly; while listening to Tracey Thorn's It's All True, somewhere while singing along We don’t need any kind of big parade, Just this once a little serenade I was reading the message. The impact of what I read was so deep; so I had to slow down to be able to read the message once more. It was from Andrew:
Hey there! How is it going, big Leo? I was just listenin' to the new J.Lo album -a song named 'brave' just reminded me of you. Listen to it. I wish to hear from you soon, though.
I put down my i-mate, picked my iPod and scrolled to Jennifer Lopez' new album. Skipped till the last song and hit play.
The second time I heard it, emotions were tearing me from inside.
I am sorry Andrew, I really am.

It's a new day, new day, and it's evident
You must have been heaven sent
Sometimes we should be hesitant, but I'm not at all
Just feelin more confident
Just using my common sense
Just trust in it, I'm lovin' it

I can't refuse an offer so benevolent
Can't assume he's gon' use me
And after he'll never call again
Don't be afraid, don't be afraid
This is your day, this is your day

It's time to be brave
Say I'm not afraid, not anymore
I used to be cold, now the temperature's changed
It just ain't the same
I'm not afraid, i'm not afraid
Cus I've become brave
As the light of day
straight into a cave
To show me the way, that I might be saved
Now I'm turning the page
Thanks to the power of love I can love
Because I am brave

I heard him say this thing moving too fast for him
It's a feelin
I was straddling
Foolishly adamant, but It's all in his eyes
Really wish he would let me in
Cus the same way I'm scared of him
I'm scared of being hurt again
It's time to let go, let go of your heart
It's time for a brand new start
Never know, we might never part
Baby don't be afraid, don't be afraid
This is your day, this is your day

It's time to be brave
Say I'm not afraid, not anymore
I used to be cold, now the
temperature's changed
It just ain't the same
I'm not afraid, i'm not afraid
Cus I've become brave
As the light of day straight into a cave
To show me the way, that I might be saved
Now I'm turning the page
Thanks to the power of love I can love
Because I am brave

I wouldn't take back anything that I've gone through (no)
I pray for strength for anything that I'm gonna do
Whether joy, or it's pain, I'm
still okay (I, I'm still okay)
I'm a be alright cause I'm not afraid
No, I am brave!

:: Lights, Camera and a Broken Heart - [Part II]

2007-10-14T02:05:00.001+02:00

" 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.

:: Lights, Camera and a Broken Heart - [Part I]

2007-09-22T16:53:00.001+02:00

Since Ramadan is the time when Middle Eastern TV kicks with endless shows, series and cheesy entertainment programs; I was wandering around the channels having an idea about what is rocking bottom this year when I came across a scene that froze me: there he was, a guy in an officer's uniform knocking on some family's door. I waited for the scene to change in order to see the cop's face; he looked so familiar.

After the never ending advertising break; a certain 20 something female opened the door and I could see the agent's features: it was Ken. I smiled, and listened to the conversation he was having with the young girl's father. The same deep voice I fell for over the phone, the same warm tone that made me thrive; coming out from well formed lips that I loved kissing and biting. Seeing him on TV made me remember those fall nights when we used to date; and I loved every single moment and feeling I had with him. Even though I was harsh at the end, I couldn't deny the fact that I still have some feelings inside of me; and I assume he has the same -otherwise; why would he be keen on contacting me every time there is any occasion just to wish me a happy one.

When we first chatted together; I never cared about knowing him: he never displayed his picture nor maintained an attractive chat flow. Ken was keeping a certain annoying anonymous aura around himself. Even though I sensed a certain vibe in the way he used to express himself with in that MSN window, I couldn't really understand the real him; and I didn't even care.

A couple of months later, and because I was very stubborn and boring in chats, he decided opening his cam and, for the first time, letting me see him. A smile and broad shoulders greeted me; when he moved the lens up to show me his face, he typed:

"Do I look familiar?"

I kept looking at his dark hair, wide dark brown eyes and his perfectly well shaped lips then answered:

"Am I missing something?"

I could almost hear him laugh in the mute video stream and read:

"Well; I was in a couple of TV series and movies. Some people recognize me!"

I blushed, artificially thanks to the emoticon, and quickly replied:

"I am sorry, I am not an Egyptian movies and series follower; but I get your point. You're a Star!"

Again I saw him laughing then typed:

"Not that much, just a few roles; luckily in major movies and TV shows though."

I liked his naive way of telling me that he's some star while trying to be modest. I smiled, again with an emoticon, and said:

"Maybe I should watch some of your work then, I'd certainly like seeing you in motion!"

"Why not in real?"

I stopped for a while; then realized that I wasn't really ready for meeting people yet; plus the awkwardness I felt because he's some sort of an actor made me feel uncomfortable. Was it because I always demand being me the one under the spot? Might be, or just because I was recovering from my relationship and wasn't ready to annoy one more person with my twisted talks. I quickly suggested exchanging phone numbers, that would rescue the negative answer to his question.

Two months passed with daily phone calls. He always tried meeting me, and I always had an excuse that I believed it was real before convincing him it was impossible. Certainly shopping for my cat isn't a good one since he already had two kittens and a dog, and wanted to join me in my tour; or one of those nights when he called me up, knowing that I was in the Gym:

"Digg, I was walking my dog when I found myself right under your Gym. Are you there yet?"

I quickly came near the wide glass and looked downstairs: there he was standing with his dalmatian and holding his cell phone; waiting for me to answer. I was confused; not only I looked in a mess for a first time meeting, but I was worried seeing him and things go wrong right before even knowing each other. He looked nice, wearing the attractive red cap that I commented on earlier and holding the cutest dalmatian dog ever. I wanted to jump down the stairs, salute him and just walk around with the dog; but I simply couldn't.

"I am in the middle of my training. My coach will kill me if I leave now!". That was half true, but at least real.

"Oh, never mind. I am sure we'll get the chance meeting again soon."

When we hung up, I was wondering what made him do all this for me, the stranger MSN guy who refuses meeting and hiding all the time? Was I worth a fake dog walk, a call and a rejection? I couldn't help but wonder: how desperate can we become when it comes to a potential, even very weak possibility, of meeting a good guy?

Ten minutes and ten counts of a rather painful biceps exercise, I just grabbed my cell phone and texted him: "I am sorry for not being able to meet you. You looked very cute in the red cap!". A couple of minutes later, my mobile announced: "What about Jeff?". I quickly typed: "The hottest dalmatian I could see!". I smile, and continued my exercise, thinking about how good he looked downstairs; flattered as well, that he made up all this just to see me.

When I was over with my training, I called him up while driving back home. I apologized once more for my rather disappointing attitude and decided that it was about time meeting him. It was obvious that he won't be putting himself one more time in that situation, if not even ending the whole date idea. I even had the guts telling him why I was pushing the meeting time as much further as possible:

"You see, Ken, it's just I feel really not that self confident after my break up.", I held myself from talking about how low my self esteem is, how deeply broken I was to the extent that I saw everyone out of my league; that I didn't have a chance with him, the Star. He just answered, after a pause:

"Digg, since you have mentioned your previous relationship, was he Mostafa?"

I hit the breaks and parked. That was his name, how could he have guessed? Did he know him? Was this a game? Why did he wait till now in order to tell me about it?

"What?", I said, trying to fill the sudden silence that was between us over the phone.

"I am sorry for mentioning this, but I sensed during all our talks how broken you are, and from the slight hints I could gather, and of course your nickname, I was wondering if that was you."

I couldn't understand why I felt a block of ice melting down my spine, or that strange numb sensation in my stomach that kept growing, forming a ball in my throat that prevented me from neither thinking nor answering comprehensibly. I just asked:

"How did you know?", as if the reasons he had just told me weren't accepted by my tormented mind.

"I told you, I guessed, plus there aren't many Digg in Cairo!".

I lit a Marlboro lights then answered:

"Apparently you know about me more than I had thought."

He quickly answered, trying to fix what he had just bombed:

"Digg, listen, to be honest with you I knew Mostafa for a while. In fact we were best friends for a while. We were so close to the point that he used to introduce me as his brother!" I couldn't help but remember the fight that I had with Mostafa, when he told me he was seeing some Star and I doubted the real kind of their relationship.

He kept on talking: "Actually it was fun, till he started talking about you. He was carrying that much amount of negative feelings towards your persona to the point that I was wondering if anything that he said was true: he had no reason to hate you that much, in fact, nobody had any valid reason to hate another person the way he used to talk about you. I started doubting whether what he used to say was real, in terms of how fucked up that relationship was and even if he ever hated you in the first place. It was just a matter of time to understand the real him: a liar, manipulator and cheap. He stabbed me in the back and now, we just don't stand seeing each other. Digg, I must tell you, he is really sick that guy. When we talked together, I saw myself how wonderful you are. He's such a fool letting you go."

I was smoking nervously while he was talking over my cell phone, when he finished, I just found myself saying:

"Ken, you have NO right talking like this about him. The guy you just criticized used to be my partner, and I would never allow anyone speak this way about him in front of me."

He excused, but I hung up; and never answered him again.

... at least for the following week.

A flood of SMSs, eMails and MSN messages: I felt bad. Not for not answering Ken, but for being under Mostafa's spell till that moment. I called him up, and again, I was shocked how important I was to him even though we hadn't met before. I just said one word when he answered:

"Let's meet now."

Thirty minutes later, I was under his house. He walked down and I could finally see him closer; as well as he. Ken sat next to me in the car and quickly said: "Finally we're here! It took me all this time and problems to see you!"

I smiled, offered him a cigarette that he rejected, then I said:

"I am sorry for being that rude with you, it's very complicated when it comes to talking about my relationship, I know it's my trigger key for insanity and you just broke it."

He wanted to talk about it again, but I just hushed him.

"Please, let it go, so I have to."

That night; we just started discovering each other; and I knew much about myself.

Proceed to Part II >>

:: Him

2007-09-04T18:19:00.001+02:00

" When it comes to life and love, why do we believe our worst reviews? " -Carrie Bradshaw.

For some reason, we always give a little extra care for our image. I am not talking about how you would look like this week-end clubbing, but the picture that others form about us whenever we are exposed to a certain event, to be more precise: when we get reviewed, silently, by other people when it comes to our love life, personal one or professional aspect. We always tend looking for what is being negative in us, what is being spread amongst the others and not for the sake of fixing ourselves, but I believe it is much more simpler than this: we always want to be perfect, no matter what, to have a better chance in whatever catch that might be just right the next corner.

I can't help but think: do we really care about others opinions? If so, why do we actually tend to follow stupid, pointless and empty targets that we believe they might be the right choice while all our entourage says it is not? Do we always look for the forbidden pleasure or is it the big drama queen that haunts us, gay guys, and always wants to make us feel betrayed, cheated and miserable after any love story that we might fall in? When it comes to falling in love, why don't we think about falling out of it?

Even though I sometimes regret talking about my previous relationship, giving out details that should be kept private between only the two of us, I had the guts writing about the break-up moment out loud in my blog -not only how it ended, but I went further back in time and wrote about our first moments together. He might come across those entries, and the entire blog; but I am certain I wouldn't feel a pinch of regret about what I wrote; songs I picked and the time I spent thinking about him, while typing, driving, talking or bugging my friends asking about his news. I can't help but comparing myself to Carrie when she went all cuckoo wondering what people were thinking about her break up with Aidan. Although the reviews that I get about my previous love relationship are totally in my favor, I can't help myself thinking: what about those who are on his side? Are they saying negative things about me as well, making him feel how wonderful it is that we ended whatever we shared together? Or is it, again, the drama queen in me talking? Only one true fact remains intact and concrete: he would never, ever, in his entire life find a guy who loved, respected and cared about him the way I did. Let's face it -nobody would be that much into him to the extent that he would dedicated a blog, entries, lines, tears and the past two years for him. Sometimes I envy him; for finding the love that was offered, unconditionally.

"The only way to heal from this obsession that you are carrying engraved deep inside your soul is simply forgiving yourself before forgiving him", that's what I have been told by a friend who suddenly popped up in my life after almost 5 years of no talks. He called me up one of those nights just to tell me that he had finally met my ex partner.

All along the past two years, I have always been too judgmental and tough on myself concerning how things went with him. Not only that, but blindly and foolishly I have applied that character of his and the whole attitude to all guys I was chatting with, started pointlessly dating and of course ended with them just because I imagined myself in the same scenario again. People are not replicas from one another, that's what I should keep in my mind whenever I feel a feeble attraction towards someone. Alfie's giggle and making out is totally unique, Ewan's romance cannot be compared to anyone else's I met exactly like the love I gave to Mostafa, my ex, cannot be duplicated. Why do I always think that Loving again is unfair for the first one's love? Actually each and every love should be neither replaced nor compared to the other. Mostafa's place in my heart and soul shall remain untouched forever decades that would come, simply because he was my first true one.

Many times I broke hearts, unintentionally, because of my bouncing attitude of restraining myself from starting (and letting be) any feeling evolve. Even though I seem like giving the green light at first, because of my more or less friendly way of breaking any ice, my orange and red lights quickly alternate when things might get more intimate. The moment that I feel good and relaxed towards someone, I suddenly start looking for the negative thing in him: I do my best convincing myself that this person cannot be the one, and if he doesn't have an apparent problem, I might make up one, believe it and use it as my alibi to runaway. How fucked up is that?

Whoever had been in a relationship before should learn one thing and has to keep it in his mind forever: being in state of Love is a blessing; if you have experienced it, you are lucky enough to feel, life and enjoy that feeling. Many others lived and died without experiencing it. By all means, you are a winner knowing how delightful that feeling is. It's up to you keeping it safely locked inside or distorting it by building walls and demolishing bridges that might lead to another feeling of joy.

I have been talking many times about my ex partner, let me wrap this subject forever and for always: H, I loved you and still love the person I was with for those precious three years no matter what you say/lie; it's just about time to let you go; and forgive myself as well.

I won't believe the negative review when it comes to you anymore; because I know I did my best, because I simply loved.

:: Him (Prelude)

2007-08-14T02:24:00.000+02:00

" There was a game we used to play
We would hit the town on Friday night
And stay in bed until Sunday.
We used to be so free
We were living for the love we had and
Living not for reality
Just my imagination. Just my imagination. It was."

"Love isn't happiness, since it is a human feeling. Those feelings are very changing and ending. Happiness can be found in simple moments, a ray of light in winter, sitting with a close friend on a sunny morning having coffee or simply, listening to music that moves you." - Samer.

ACT I

When I first saw Him, I knew He was the one.

At least my imagination drew that to me.

When I first met Mostafa, wearing His white shirt and black water proof pants in Marriott's Bakery al Hegaz street, my 19 years old heart pushed extra shots of blood mixed with fresh adrenaline into my veins. I loved the way he smelled, walked, talked, smiled, turned, glimpsed and drank his Turkish coffee that he had ordered fifteen minutes earlier. When he felt a little bit more comfortable, he looked at me with his dreamy eyes and said:

"I am half Turkish, just like this coffee!"

I smiled, although it was a cheesy way that he used to announce his ascendance, I simply loved it. He was magical, and I fell under his spell. I slowly picked a Merit cigarette and answered:

"That explains your looks", I quickly grabbed my smokes pack and offered him one. He moved back while saying:

"No, thanks. I don't smoke. Enough both my parents do, I have plenty of tobacco in my blood. I'd rather see you stopping it as well."

I slowly inhaled the smoke and answered while blowing it out, vainly trying to form a circle:

"I like smoking."

We both went silent, sipping the hot drinks we were served. When I felt that silence was becoming heavier, because of my comment, I said:

"It was so coincidental the way we met the other day. To be honest, when I asked you for a picture on ICQ and you answered saying that you don't have one but you look sexy, I wasn't interested in you. I was like: what a smug!"

"And what do you think now?", he asked when I looked down at my Cappuccino mug.

"Quiet interesting. Charming, to be precise".

Now, I am sure that this would have charged his ego to its extreme, if I could understand back then the smile that he drew on his innocent face.

He started telling me about his family and cousins. He spoke so casually about them as if I already knew them. When we felt bored and that the café's walls were too narrow for us and being followed by the bored Sunday morning waiters, we paid the check and left.

As we were heading to his car, I noticed how inappropriate I looked next to him: back then I had that girly slutty attitude that I acquired from the entourage that I used to hang out with. I tried controlling my gestures and not swinging the small Gucci bag I was carrying.

While he was driving, he inserted Mariah Carey's tape and her exceptional voice was explaining how she was wishing to spend just one more night with her beloved one, she would risk her life just to feel his body, she would give her all. I couldn't typically relate to the song back then, but I loved the music, sadness and deep passion in the song.

"I had to slow dance that song with a girl friend of mine", he slowly said while looking at me, "I always wished I would dance it again with a guy". The idea of holding him close to me and feeling his body's touch and warmth was turning me on, while giving me a cozy feeling that I was missing and needed so much.

Soon after the song ended, his phone rang: his sister wanted him to pick her up, and that was when I was supposed to leave for that day, with all the dreams, imagination and anticipation I was having in my adolescent mind and heart. Everything tasted beautiful when I was home: music, lunch, the sun, and watching my ICQ waiting for him to come online while making sure that my cell phone is on to receive his call.

Our conversation later that night still sounds in my ears: his voice, tone and promises I felt in his conversation made me open up my heart and wish he'd be my keeper instead of all those empty barriers and filthy one nights that used to feed me.

Slowly, but surely we both were approaching each other with our daily phone calls, SMSs and innocent rush. Whenever we hung up, I was waiting for our next phone call to be showered with his words and drowned in his warmth.

Two weeks later, even though I didn't want to, I traveled with my friends to the Northern Coast and made sure he would know about it:

"Hey sweet, sorry for waking you up; I just wanted you to know that I am on my way to Marina".

"Oh, how long will you stay?", he asked me between two yawns.

"I am not sure, but three days max. We just started moving", I said while looking through the car's window at the faint morning lights, mixed with the fresh morning Cairo's humid air.

"Call me when you're there, okay?", he said with his deep sexy tone.

I called, no answer.

ACT II

Eight months elapsed, and no single phone call, SMS or even online: Mostafa just vanished. Many nights I spent thinking what could have been gone wrong, many hours I stayed staring at my ICQ list waiting for him to come online, a hundred unanswered missed calls on his mobile, thousands of lost SMSs and one broken hearted me. Foolishly I rushed into an insignificant short termed adventure with Mahmoud, during which I couldn't keep my thoughts away from Mostafa.

Mahmoud and I were shopping one day for CDs when my phone rang. As I took it out and looked at the screen, I froze. The tune kept announcing the call, vibrating my hand, mind and soul. Unfocused, I answered:

"Mostafa?"

I heard his "Allô?", and my heart started beating, with anger. I couldn't find anything to say, yet a thousand questions were rushing in my mind. I shook them all off and chilled enough I asked:

"How are you?"

I am alright, thank God, how is it going with you?"

I looked at Mahmoud and answered: "I am okay." I took a deep breath then asked: "Where have you been?"

A moment of silence that passed like eternity when he answered:

"I want to see you. Next Friday, at midnight. Is it convenient?"

I couldn't but agree.

ACT III

"There is a game I like to play
I like to hit the town on Friday night
And stay in bed until Sunday
Well always be this free
We will be living for the love we have
Living not for reality."

11:30 PM, my cell phone announced an incoming SMS. My anticipated eyes quickly rushed reading it: "Remember Cinderella?". I was with a friend when I excused and went home, waiting for him to come over. Midnight sharp, there he was with his black car waiting for me downstairs. I ran down the escalators, in great need seeing his face after a 8 months thirst.

Perfumed, stylish with a wide smile, he greeted me. Confused, irritated with eager heart, I stamped a kiss on his cheek. He drove a couple of blocks away and parked. He started talking about how things were going, how he wanted to call me but lost my number because he erased it and how happy he was when he got it back from our chat history.

"Erased?", I quickly asked.

"Yeah. I had this incident at home soon after the day you traveled. My dad picked up the phone while I was talking to some, you know, gay friend."

I had my eyes wide open, trying to think what could his father have heard.

"He told me that I've been followed by the Police, that they know that I am fag and I would be arrested if I don't take care."

"Shit!", I mumbled, "and what happened?"

He smiled then said: "Nothing, when my gran'ma came this fall, dad told her that he faked all this story to scare me!"

"Shit! Shit!"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I said, along with a lot of other vocabulary!", he said while sitting more comfortable in his car seat, inviting me touch him all over, but I held my desire. I had too much anger inside of me to be melted away with a simple touch.

"Why you couldn't tell me that? Do you know how I felt?"

"Digg, I erased all numbers from my phone, removed MSN, deleted porn on my PC and remained in my room, trembling every time the door bell rang, every phone call and each suspicious person walking beside me in the street. It was a nightmare. I hate my dad for this, I really do."

I couldn't but softly pass my finger through his hair. I could imagine all the fear he had during that time, especially with all the news we used to read in every newspaper in town.

"Hey!, he quickly said, what about a round in Korba area?"

ACT IV

"There was a time I used to pray,
I have always kept my faith in love
Its the greatest thing from the man above.
The game I used to play,
I've always put my cards upon the table
Let it never be said that I'd be unstable.

Just my imagination. Just my imagination. It was."

A couple of months followed and we had our fixed Cinderella time: Friday at midnight. We talked, flirted, kissed and silently drew our future. Our passion started growing in our young hearts and it was totally controlling my mind and senses. I so wanted to do it right with him.

It was in May when we decided planing our first trip. I booked in Hilton Dahab for 10 days and we had the silent agreement of taking it all to the next level. All along the way to Sinai, we would steal a moment or two holding each other's hand, cuddling in the bus' back seat and talking about how we would plan our days.

As soon as we checked in, we hit the bed. Tired, I slept hugging him. Around sunset, and when we both started waking up, our thirsty lips crossed. Passionately, slowly, deeply and boldly we kissed for hours, making sure we would engrave every second in our memory. My fast heart beat mixed with his deep breathing were forming a wild and raw physical instinct and crave for more and intense desire.

Sweating, we slowly started undressing the few clothes we were wearing in that hot summer evening. Enormous passion in discovering each other's body and applying the almost a year hidden desire in action were controlling our actions. If I compare the amount of horniness I was expressing in that night, I would have summed all the other nights I spent with all my dates and multiplied it by a thousand to reach that level. There was something about his smell, skin, naked body, lips and my desire that made loads of Adrenaline and basic instinct flood intensively in my almost trembling body, communicating its vibes into his, melting our souls and fusing our future.

10 days of amazing sex, wonderful moments and most of all, a fake illusion of future security. I was his, and he was mine.

At least for the following three years.

If you, if you could return
Don’t let it burn, don’t let it fade
I’m sure I’m not being rude
But it’s just your attitude
It’s tearing me apart
It’s ruining everything
And I swore, I swore I would be true
And honey so did you
So why were you holding her hand
Is that the way we stand
Were you lying all the time
Was it just a game to you

But I’m in so deep
You know I’m such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

Oh, I thought the world of you
I thought nothing could go wrong
But I was wrong
I was wrong
If you, if you could get by
Trying not to lie
Things wouldn’t be so confused
And I wouldn’t feel so used
But you always really knew
I just wanna be with you

And I’m in so deep
You know I’m such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger

- Linger, the Cranberries.

:: Calling

2007-08-07T00:39:00.000+02:00

He stopped my car and asked me driving it instead. We switched places and while I was moving, he reached for my iPod and I could hear the clicking sound by the device scrolling in my music library. He stopped wheeling and clicked. I could almost hear him having a deep breath then faintly, he said while reaching this time for my trembling hand, holding it tight and said: "Digg, I dedicate this song to you".

He raised the volume, and I listened ...

The sun is going down on me
As she surrenders to the sea
So steal the night and fly with me
I'm calling, I'm calling
The moon is high on me and you
Is my message breaking through?
Darkened skies that once were blue are falling
So hear me now
Calling out your name
Burning on the flame
Played the waiting game
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
(Forever and ever)
Through distant lands and mountain streams
My river's running through your dreams
There's an ocean in between
Forever and never
Chasing shadows through the years
I whisper softly to my dear
Be sure to know that I am here
Forever
So hear me now
Calling out your name
(A wish that could come true)
Burning on the flame
(I'm reaching out to you)
Played the waiting game
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
Whispers in the air
I dream you into life
Here a lover's prayer
I pray for you tonight
I can feel you there
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
No man is an island
That's an empty sin
Discovery is a journey
Just have to let me in
Calling out your name
(A wish that could come true)
Burning on the flame
(I'm reaching out to you)
Played the waiting game
Calling out your name
(A wish that could come true)
Burning on the flame
(I'm reaching out to you)
Played the waiting game
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
Whispers in the air
(I dream you into life)
Hear a lover's prayer
(I can feel you there)
Hear my calling
Hear my calling
No man is an island (A wish that could come true)
That's an empty sin (I'm reaching out to you)
So steal the night and fly with me
I'm calling
Hear my calling

- Calling -Geri Halliwell

:: So Far - [Outro]

2007-08-01T20:31:00.000+02:00

"Looking back at all the previous posts; I noticed how exposed I am: naked, but not in my bed room. I dated men and never had the guts to show them my blog: I felt that they would be having the privilege of knowing too much en excès about my personal little details; I even denied linking myself to the blog when I was asked." -Digg, So Far - [intro]

Only a couple more days to go, and the clock would announce; not sure whether happily, doubtfully, sadly, ironically or something else; my birthday.

Again, I would hang out with Shatz and Samer, drink and dance the night away, fall in a couple of surprise parties where I have to act totally blown away. I would gracefully smile at my friends' faces, thank them deeply and wonder: how deep have I affected their souls? How really important is this day to them?

Would it be much different if I shared it with a life partner? Or is it better me partying, a single 20 something guy, alone; with shiny eyes reflecting lust, sadness and a psycho touch of deep happiness that I am alive?

How would it have been if I tried applying much weight on the relationship concept with Miky?

After the naive love I felt for him, his kisses that flew me high in the skies; and attitudes that crushed me down on earth, I took a deep breath and gave a deep thought about it: what if the great guy picture I drew was just a projection of light that I projected over his real character? What if Miky wasn't really who I wanted him to be? Maybe that was why I was always shocked when he acts in a way that I couldn't understand.

In fact, after the drinks we had in Deals and the infamous try-to-kiss-me, I tried acting dumb; at least during the whole following month. I tried shifting my thoughts till that night, while cruising Jardino, I met Amir:

"Digg, sweetie how are?"

Even though I knew how hypocrite he is, I faked my usual smile and answered:

"Good. How is it going with you, Amir? Heard about your new job!"

"Yeah; don't remind me! My new manager is gay! What's up with this country? Everyone is turning fag!"

I slowly nodded while looking at the car passing next to me and slowing down. I couldn't help but wonder: was he checking me out, or were I seen as who is that guy stopped by the bitch?

After a bunch of pointless talks; fake laughs and a couple of cars flashing, Amir said:

"There is that someone I am dating these days. He thinks he's being smart with me, but I am waaaay much harder than what he thinks!"

I was interested, not by he fact he was dating someone, but that there is still someone out there who doesn't know the real slutty him!

I asked: "Tell me more about him. Is he cute?"

After a couple of details, I was hearing Miky's description. I tried to swallow this huge ball that I felt in my throat, I couldn't. How could he date all those bitches? Had he already forgotten about Tamer, the Black Widow? His ex, the whore?

Am I too invisible to be seen?

I stopped talking to him; I still have some dignity.

* * *

I am sure when I will be mixing my Martini drink while celebrating my birthday, I will remember Alfie; with his sweet giggle and our trip together. I will remember how smoothly I felt between his arms, how right it was while kissing him, and how ecstatic it was while having sex.

Even though I never said "yes" verbally, I couldn't deny missing him and actually saying it out loud. He called me after a while; checking on me. When I saw his name on my phone, I froze for a while; then took a deep breath and answered:

"Hey you!"

At the other end I could almost picture him smiling while leaning on the phone:

"You never called me since that day".

I couldn't find the right words to answer him, but I surely had a lot to say. Whenever I picture Alfie, I just remember his tender lips and soft touch.

"How is work?", he asked.

I replied, as I always do but distantly thinking about seeing him; so I quickly answered:

"I am coming now... we're having coffee together", before he had the time to answer, I was already hanging up and getting ready.

When I saw him, he was always as attractive as last time I saw him, which he emphasized:

"Yaaaah! I sooo miss you!", he said while hugging me.

I squeezed him so close to me and we just sat down and talked, talked about everything. He had his way in making me surrender. Was it his ultimate innocence? Deep hypnotizing eyes? Or is it the breathtaking glamour that he has?

"Digg, he said after finishing our third coffee, you must see my new Beemer!" In fact, it has been a while I was following his new beloved and customized new BMW!

While driving him back home, I gently moved my hand over his, and felt the electricity going up my arm, down my spine and echoing in my brains. He giggled his sexy giggle and said:

"Long time, Digg; it has been long time!"

He squeezed my hand and leaned a bit next to me; giving me hints about my car, his car, and making me smell his slight perfume mixed with cigarette and my car's AC.

We are still in touch till this very day, and who knows, maybe I will have another adventure with him soon.

* * *

While driving back home on my birthday night, drunk and loaded with confused emotions; I will remember Ewan; my greek god. Even though I knew that the last time I would be in contact with him would have been that night I drove him to Cairo International Airport in order to catch his plane, and even though I knew that the kiss I had in the street in front of his parents that night would be craziest thing I would have ever done; I had a slight sensation that his story wouldn't be over.

While waiting for Samer on one of our Thursday nights, my phone rang. It was him, with his glorious strong tone announced his name: Ewan. For the fist time, I was speechless, with an empty head: absolutely nothing. Void. I then realized how rude it was, being silent.

"Where are you, mate?", I answered while remembering the local number that appeared on my cell.

"In the airport. I remembered you while being here!"

While I thought he had just landed in Egypt, he turned out to be just leaving it.

"I couldn't call you earlier, Digg. I wanted to, but couldn't!"

Were I too much to face?

I lit a cigarette then answered: "What matters you are alright.. what have you done about the.. thing?"

"I couldn't do it.. even though I walked into the Church!"

Many things he couldn't do; but he had the possibility to capture me, mind and soul.

"What matters is that you are alright, aren't you, Ewan?"

He confirmed, then, while hanging up, expressed how much he misses me and hoped I could understand why we couldn't meet while he was here.

... I really didn't understand why; but I knew that that would have been the last contact between both of us.

Yes, it was.

* * *

If Samer happens to suggest passing by Harry's pub on my birthday, I will surely laugh and remind him with the funny incident that happened while we were with Wael and Amgad. We would make fun of how fake their lives were and I would surely tell him about what happened afterwards.

I will start my talk asking him if he was still in touch with Amgad, especially after he was trying to hit on him right after he broke up with Wael. I will ironically laugh and tell him how cheap Wael became, living in the house of a 50 something years old guy and hanging out with all those cheap feather fags.

I will mention the mail that Amgad sent to Wael; pretending to be a Police Officer, threatening to arrest him and warning him that he was under surveillance. I will talk about the dirty ways Egyptian fags are following, we'd surely show our disdain, then we'll just forget about them.

* * *

Even though it would have been 2 years since my break up, I will remember Him. I would surely feel weird in my stomach, not because I miss Him; because apparently I don't anymore, but because I haven't heard about Him for a while. With every SMS I would be receiving, I would be hoping that He would be wishing me happy birthday. Even if He sends me an SMS, I wouldn't feel comfortable. I would feel worried and disgusted.

Do I still love Him? He has indeed changed my whole life and vision regarding relationships, but is He that routed and combined into my soul to the extent that I can't differentiate myself, my though and His impact on me?

* * *

Soon, my ID, gayDar, ManJam and other profiles' account will increase the right digit in my age by one.

I lay back and think: I am so lucky to have Samer, Shatz, Salmos and many many other terrific friends in my life. I might not be that lucky when it comes to love matters; but their existence is quiet balancing mine.

Cheers!

Merry-Go-Round

2007-07-27T20:06:00.001+02:00

Sorry for the delay and thanks for asking -
The blog will be updated shortly.

- Digg.

:: So Far - [intro]

2007-06-29T19:20:00.000+02:00

Looking back at all the previous posts; I noticed how exposed I am: naked, but not in my bed room. I dated men and never had the guts to show them my blog: I felt that they would be having the privilege of knowing too much en excès about my personal little details; I even denied linking myself to the blog when I was asked. Although I am actually dating someone; the idea of letting him visit this space could never be realised (at least till this very moment). His best friend happens to be one of ... and then God created Men! fans; and I draw a cold smile on my face whenever he relates to an event; line or just the whole feeling and warmth he gets when he is reading the blog.

I have been also asked many times about the latest details about all the mentioned guys -and I must admit; major changes happened either in my personal life or my nautika one.

Knowing that my last post was more than a month ago; and yes; I am still alive thank you for asking in all those mails; I believe I must have a pause in my blogs; update all the old news and re-launch with all the latest and left events.

During the past 6 weeks I went through serious changes in my life -as well as beliefs. I understood how we -deeply and badly hurt people in previous relationships- need to believe in ourselves; how radiant we should be and leave a little window open for a ray of light; as the Queen sang. It's so ugly when you surrender to any belief inside of you; because sooner or later that will get screwed; changed; modified; altered or simply fucked up -either by your own hands or someone else's.

As Maurice Freehill once asked: "Who is more foolish, the child afraid of the dark or the man afraid of the light?"; I believe my answer would be: neither nor; but a person who is afraid of both.

>> Proceed to Part II

:: Just Say "Yes"

2007-05-14T12:33:00.000+02:00

"When a relationship dies do we ever really give up the ghost or are we forever haunted by the spirits of relationships past” -Carrie Bradshaw

Cairo; one big city with many opportunities of meeting low class or sexually confused guys. If you go for a round in Jardino, you'd certainly see the fancy BMW flashing for some trashy looking guy and hooking him up, or maybe you'd come across that boy who only picks up soldiers; pay them and drive them back to their guarding post after blowing them; no matter what sexual orientation they have. You are actually having the typical queer life picture in my capital: fags who beg for a fuck, queens who shake their booties to catch the biggest dick, guys who love for the sake of having sex, others get committed just to show off how desired they are, or simple others who deny love, because they were badly hurt to the extent that they are scared to experience that delightful feeling again.

I have proudly joined the latter group.

As usual, three desperate boys were sitting in L'Aubergine surrounded by empty Meister and ID bottles, cocktail drinks and some remaining lemon cuts, were talking about their latest crazy dates:

"I tell you, that big!", said Shatz while holding some space between his two fingers.

"Holy Wood! That must be.. 22, 23 centimeters?", I said while keeping my eyes wide open.

"Yep, you said it honey, 23"; specified Shatz. I shacked my head and said: "I'd never have that unless I am really drunk!".

Shatz moved the ID bottle away, leaned next to my ear and said: "Don't we both miss a good dick?"

True! For the past whatever many times, I've always been the active part; whether I wanted or not. Physics always made sure that I end up penetrating the butt that was exposed in front of me. I am not sure maybe because I am too active or just because I can't find someone as strong and passionate as me on bed that I always end up controlling the whole process. I was longing for a good active man, I finally felt like Samantha Jones did when she was dating Maria and using the strap on dick.

"And how was it?", I asked while looking around; as if finding a good active guy became the biggest secret that a queer can keep and cares a lot not disclosing any information that would blow that precious finding's cover.

"He was great! A little painful, but loads of pleasure."

Samer laughed and said: "You guys never stop talking about cocks?"

Both of us quickly answered: "No!". I added: "Not because you're solely active, Samer, that we should talk about butts only. I want a good fuck, and I want it now! I just hope my trip to Alexandria tomorrow with Alfie will be worth it!"

Samer put down his cherry vodka bottle and said: "What about that guy! You've been talking about him for the past weeks. Why are you traveling with him in the first place? It's not your way, Digg!"

I lit my Davidoff, had a deep breath off the butt and replied: "He's different. I am feeling a strange vibe with this guy, Samer. I know it's a dead end, but I should enjoy what I have."

Even though I knew it would be a dead end and I would totally break Alfie's heart, I wanted to try how would it be having sex with someone I was feeling a crush on his character, and not only his body.

9 weeks earlier, I met Alfie and knew about his life in less than a 2 hours chat. He just opened up to the guy that was behind the opened chat window. We exchanged phone numbers and I decided surprising him one day while he was at work. I parked and waited. When it was past midnight and couldn't see him walking out, I called.

"Hey you. Still at work?"

"Nope. I am already half way home. How are you, Digg?"

Disappointed, I answered: "Oh I am cool. Feeling a bit cold and strange, waiting for you down your office."

"Shit! Are you there?"

Yeah. Too bad I haven't seen you going out."

I heard Alfie lowering his car stereo and saying: "Sorry, I left half an hour early. Shit! Shit! I am coming back!"

I quickly answered: "No! I am already leaving. Well; it wasn't destined that we meet today. It's cool!"

After convincing him that it wasn't a big deal, we agreed that I would pass by the following week-end and see him, that time, with a set date.

When we greeted, I had an instant crush: Alfie had the major attraction features that I loved in a guy -strong and direct eye contact, wonderful Mediterranean tan, sexy chest hair and he was both a smoker and drinker through those amazingly well shaped lips. When I was driving to Cilantro to have coffee together, he hadn't stopped talking about everything. I felt comfortable listening to his warm tone and looking at his sexy light hazel eyes every now and then. Alfie was the type of guys who hadn't any problem with his sexual orientation but inexperienced:

"No, I never had sex with a guy before". It hit me! How could a 24 years old guy still be virgin? Hell, Charlotte York, with all her idealistic concepts, wasn't one!

"And that's because ...", I said while thinking about the tiny possibility that he would be rejecting the idea.

"... because I lived my whole life in Kuwait with no friends."

Our chats kept escalating, as well as phone calls and SMS's. We were eager and passionate, but I was worried and terrified being the-first-guy-to-have-sex-with. Maybe because of the memory that he would keep, or the feeling that I would get? That's when he said, one night:

"Digg, I had sex!"

Astonished, I replied: "Oh really? How was it?"

"It was okay, I mean, not great as I expected it to be. It was totally unplanned, you know, he just called me and I went to his place."

It was jealousy that I felt, I can easily recognize it: "Why did you do that?"

"Because of you, Digg. You didn't want me inexperienced!"

Now, he was hanging it all on me. As if I didn't want more pain and headache, making me feel guilty was too much.

"No! I haven't asked you to go and screw around! You shouldn't have done that!"

He felt sorry and assured me that he just wanted to break the first time's fear; especially that I wasn't flexible with the idea of him being virgin.

My feeling indeed changed: I wasn't flexible with the idea of him having sex because of me!

Weeks passed. I knew the real Alfie: a very shy person; even if he tried showing other than that. I was falling more and more in his amazing eyes; forgetting any uncomfortable feeling just by looking at him. He had this warmth glowing that surrounds you and makes you feel secured. He admitted that he wanted, on many different opportunities, holding hands, kissing or just caressing me; but he couldn't do it. I, with all the guts that I might be having and courage of breaking the ice, couldn't do that either. I wanted it to be special and different. He was very desirable and I didn't want to ruin my first taste of his honey. That's when I decided going to Alexandria, placed the Sheraton reservations and called him up:

"Alf, prepare your suitcase, the less the better. We're going this week-end to Alexandria."

"What! Digg! I am totally unprepared for that trip.. I mean, I am not .."

"Just move your butt! I will pick you up Friday at 8 AM."

And that's how it went. I couldn't stop in any Rest House on the whole way to Alexandria. We both were too eager to run away from Cairo, work, life and stress and just relax and be pampered by the sea side. For the first time, he touched my cheeck and neck, I felt electricity flowing all around my body. It got discharged on the gaz pedal, accelerating and diminishing distance and time to reach our ultimate goal.

As soon as we checked-in and showered, Alfie slept. His night shifts were exhausting him. I slowly moved next to him and held him tight, closer to my chest. Thoughts kept spinning intensively in my head. The closer he was getting to me, the bigger fear grew inside.

He slowly opened his eyes and said: "Hey you", even slower he moved towards my lips, and stamped a gentle kiss.

"I always wanted to do that", said Alfie while moving back to his foetus position. He couldn't be any sweeter, he couldn't be any hotter. I held him close, and for the first time since my break-up, I wasn't going Ga-Ga over his nude body -I was enjoying his hug and simple feeling; and that was scaring me; tremendously.

Alfie slept like a baby.

Two hours later, with a numb arm, my emotions manipulator woke up. I was determined that we would be having our most sensual moments; since both of us really needed it to be that way.

We kept making out, only, that whole day.

When it was almost 1 AM and after having our late dinner, we decided going to have a couple of drinks at Sheikh Ali Pub. I remembered Ayman and drew a big smile on my face while walking in; this time with a non-mirage person. In the pub, and after several drinks, I discovered another aspect in Alfie: he was the 'very social' guy. In those couple of hours, he managed having the bartenders, the owner and some of the clients gather around us, talking, laughing and discussing everything. He actually offered his help to one of the bar boys:

"Listen, when you come to Cairo, give me a call. I'll make sure I'd find a good place for you to stay in, cheap and clean". That's when I actually snapped. I asked for the cheque and we both left. In the car and under the alcohol effect, I asked Alfie to stop flirting with others. He simply answered:

"Digg; I wasn't flirting! They were all straights in there!"

"No Alfie, you couldn't see that group of guys who were right next to you? They were devouring you!"

"No, he answered innocently, Digg you know I don't have any experience in this. I couldn't tell who is gay and who is not."

I swooned.

I started my engines and we drove back to the hotel; by the sea side, in the calm Alexandrian night. Only two drunk souls were awake that Friday night, driving in style, holding hands and singing along with Magida al Roumi's Ebhathou Anny. I couldn't hold my burning desire, that time tripled with the chemical reaction that was swinging my head. We started making out in the elevator while going up 15 floors and intensively enjoyed our first nude body contact. I was falling apart each time he giggled while kissing, or whenever I heard his faint moan reflecting his pleasure.

I must admit; I never had such a passionate sex or good fuck ever! Every cell was screaming for his touch; and enjoying his warmth. We spent the most magnificent week-end together, since ages for me, and the first for him.

On the day we were leaving, I felt both powers inside me: one pulling me towards believing in him; another grip was holding on to my heart, squeezing it and reminding me how impossible starting a new relationship. It wasn't because I enjoyed sex, found someone who shares me a cigarette on bed or because I felt that magnificent feeling and a Magida al Roumi/Madonna/Mariah Carey fan would make me fall in love. I had many restrictions, borders and mined fields inside of me, that he had stepped on and blew one of them inside my head, reminding me how hard love is; how impossible that I can go through it again and moreover, how deceiving the results might be.

Was my previous and only relationship that sinking that the Black Pearl couldn't float again without a miracle? Was Alfie my Miracle, or was I too blinded to believe in it? The relationship's ghost was haunting me; and I never summoned it or asked it to leave. I could never answer positively when he asked me: Do you like me? I couldn't say Yes when he asked me: Can we date each other, exclusively?

Alfie understood, through my little answers and evading ones, that he wouldn't be building up hopes. I actually felt how weak I mgiht be, not being able to determine my real feelings and actually admit that I might start something with someone again. Alfie pulled himself away, he was busy, too busy to be honest comparing to our daily chats and talks. He is depends and trusts my opinions; and we actually talk every now and then, or I get an SMS expressing how he misses me; but I had to slow down: I didn't want to be his first heart breaker as well. On the contrary, I found myself actually SMSing him the other day: Alfie, I miss you so much. I am longing for those days in Alex, I so much want to hold you, kiss you, feel you, make you cover me with your passion. I need you, Alfie. That was too much for me to say, maybe it was the Tequilla talking, but I am not regretting that declaration. He called me back and told me how magnificent it was to read me saying that:

"You know Digg, I really wanted to hear you say that a long while ago. I just wanted to hear "yes"

Since that day, I am missing him and most of all, missing myself. I couldn't help but thinking about another Carrie's classic quote: "What ultimately defines a relationship, is another relationship". What was missing in that line was a conditional IF sentence, that goes like: IF you could make it!

:: My End in Sight

2007-04-12T09:30:00.000+02:00

" We'd gather around all in a room, fasten our belts, engage in dialogue. We'd all slow down, rest without guilt, not lie without fear, disagree sans jugement. We would stay and respond and expand and include and allow and forgive and enjoy and evolve and discern and inquire and accept and admit and divulge and open and reach out and speak up. "
- Alanis Morissette

Circles.

I drew circles.

Tears want to explode off my sorrowed eyes; flow down, wet my cheeks, going up my lip, down my tongue.

Salty, reminding me of the beach; the day I was with Him building a big castle of sand, bigger than the one I drew in my dreams.

More circles.

Salty tears reminding me the night I aimlessly drove when I knew that Miky was attracted to Shatz. The only person towards whom I felt real emotions, after my disastrous break-up, was playing me. Did he intend to do that? Finding myself stuck in the middle of that emotional ménage-à-trois was nothing but a never ending dark pit.

I wish I could figure out the reason he's still flirting me, dating me, asking my opinion. I wish I could figure out why I can't stop him from doing that to me. I just need to understand, why do I feel shacked?

Self confidence. I miss that, totally. Although I meet every now and then a perfectly fine person who knows when to start a chat, when to call and picks the right wine bottle; I never declare my feelings or intentions. Arrogance? No. I know I can make friends, but I don't have the slightest possibility in making love. I always shut up.

I did meet a few good people.

Do I have to claim them once I see them? Mark my prey by pissing on it?

Watch them go away? Share them with others and become a victim of my thoughts?

Helpless, I totally am.

Why have I been diverting my cell phone for the past five days? What am I hiding from? Why am I not logging into the online gay meat markets anymore?

Am I that hurt? Because of what?

Again, I found myself in Part Deux of Miky/Shatz/Digg story -and worse, since I am living it now.

I thought I was gaining grounds by making him trust me; Moods was so smart. It took months for him to show me his picture followed by weeks to exchange numbers.

He is hot. Seriously.

It only took a couple of days for Mark to date Moods four times.

I never met Moods. I don't know why. He has been asking me a lot, I never gave a precise answer. Not to myself at least. I loved how things were going over our daily one hour calls and hours of chats. I felt more secured that way.

Another missed call from him now on my mobile phone. He has been calling me like crazy since I diverted my phone; especially not even seeing me online on Windows Live. What am I trying to prove to myself?

I fake a smile.

I always do. I became good at that.

Why have I changed my PC and laptop wallpapers into this picture, taken on April 17th 2004?

I looked happy. We both did that day. He was hugging me, I can still feel His body and arms around me. A circle.

Does Moods even know that I have a crush on him?

I told him that a couple of times, in a totally indirect way. He's not the type that wants me to sing serenades to declare my attraction: he can feel the vibes.

Or is it me?

Am I too lost to be saved? Too broken to be fixed?

Too late?

If I could only make the universe revolve in the right direction. I would have tried fixing between Samer and Jack -they can't see how beautiful things might be if they just let go of their stupid arrogance. I would have made Shatz stay in Egypt, I don't want to loose such a good funny friend. I would have made Salmo's much needed trip real, that of course after making sure he gets laid soon. I would have tried convincing myself that I don't have a shot with Miky or Moods.

I would have tried removing His venom off my veins, for that I am addicted to a long gone fix.

I would have loved giving Ewan another true kiss, climb another mountain or had a smoke in the lighthouse. I would have looked for Ayman and asked him why has he disappeared.

I would have had more self confidence the other day, to walk towards that sexy looking guy and end his misery trying to grab my attention, I would have accepted Moods invitation for drinks in Sangria.

But this isn't my call.

I remain in my sanctuary, away from the earthquakes, volcanoes and twisters.

I miss myself.

This is Utopia,

This is my Utopia.
This is my Ideal, my end in sight.
Utopia

This is my Utopia.
This is my Nirvana,
My Ultimate.

" I often find that, unless I have something that I have created, that I am aware of in my own mind to work toward but wander around aimlessly; so it's like a map of some sort that I shouldn't relay to strangely but one I can at least reference when I am on my path, so, mmm, it's kind of my higher vision, certainly I can't live everyday; I can I guess, I just... try to. "
- Alanis Morissette, talking about Utopia.

:: ContrAddicted

2007-04-03T11:20:00.000+02:00

Wherever I've been, the same gay attitude is followed everywhere in the world. Whether it is Amsterdam or Riyadh, our community lives the same scenarios, parties, gatherings, gossips, heartbreaks and many other different aspects of the typical queer life.

We were sitting in the Harry's Pub, having our cocktails and drinks when Wael called me:

"Hey Digg! I just finished work. Where are you guys?"

"We just reached the Harry's. Hurry up, is Amgad coming with you?"

"Yep. On our way."

They had just got committed a month before. In fact, they have just bought two white gold rings to celebrate their eternal love to come. Although they met in a very uncommon story, and despite my doubts about what could be the real intentions behind Amgad's Pay It Forward good deeds, I was kind of convinced when I saw them taking their love-life-to-be in a serious way. Amgad was Wael's 27th Lover.

"Samer, I said while ending the call, they are coming. Please try to be cool with it, would you?"

Samer just looked at me while dipping his toasted Lebanese bread in the chili cheese mix on the table and said:

"I don't like Wael's way in what he is doing. For crying out loud, they have just met and decided to go the next level and he just goes and fucks Amgad's best friend? I can't look at his face. How cheap is that!"

"Samer, please, you are not supposed to know this. I told you that Wael doesn't have the possibility to say no. He swore to me that he regrets it a lot and felt how seriously he is in love with Amgad. I believe that was a test that he had to go through to know what the real feeling of guilt should be like." I said those words, although I wasn't really believing them. My head was processing the whole Fuck-Fuck scenario in a very traditional way: control your cock when you promise someone to start something serious. I might be from the old school, but open relationships don't exist in my seXFORD dictionary.

I checked the pub, on that Thursday night, there were quiet a bunch of gay table around us. Nobody was interesting, I was thinking about the guy I had met the week before. I was in a serious mess whenever I thought about him: he was a total copy of my ex partner. My feelings were too messy to understand what I was really feeling towards him: was it having a crush or reliving my dead love reincarnated in him?

Half an hour later, two queens walked from the main door. We greeted following the usual queer ritual of pressing our bodies against each other while stamping a warm cheek kiss. I could read disgust in Samer's eyes when he saw Wael, but he is good in controlling his reactions.

"What would you have guys?", I asked while giving them space to sit next to me.

"I would go for Tequila, said Amgad while hailing the waitress".

"Manhattan", added Wael. "How is it tonight?"

"I like the music played tonight, thank God not too much drunk karaoke singers".

They laughed. I smiled, leaned next to Wael and said: "He left, right?".

"Yeah, we just drove him to the airport. Digg, I tell you, Amgad was crying; and I felt torture. What I did was really bad."

I mixed my Vodka with Sparkling Water and answered: "I hope you learnt your lesson, Wael".

He nodded.

An hour passed. Alcohol was affecting our systems and we started moving with Karl Wolf's music and some Sexy Backs that needed to be whipped when a Japanese girl approached us and walked towards Amgad while carrying a Tequila shot. She put the plate on the table and said to him: "My friend over there wants you to have this."

We all turned and looked. There he was, a somehow good looking guy in his late twenties was waving at Amgad. Confused, my friend didn't answer but just looked at the offering. Suddenly, he frowned. I looked at Wael then told Amgad:

"Dude, that's cool. You know what, just take the Tequila, give it back to him and tell him you are already with someone."

"How could he do that!", said Amgad. I felt a storm coming. I quickly answered:

"How could he know you're with someone! He liked you and signaled it. It's your move now to gently reject his request."

Quickly, Amgad took the drink and gave it back to the somehow cute in hate late twenties guy. When he came back to our table, Amgad just grabbed his mobile phone and stormed out of the Pub. Seeing this, Wael quickly followed him. I looked at Samer and Shatz, bedazzled by that attitude.

I followed them and found Amgad hysterical.

"How could he do this? Do I look that queen? Do I look that cheap?"

No, you look like a Drama Queen to me!

"Come on Amgad, the guy liked you among the five of us. You should be flattered! How could he know that you're committed to someone?"

"No. This is sick! This is crazy! I must complain to the Pub's Owner".

I looked at Wael who was totally cool about it. When Amgad left us to file a complain, Wael said:

"It's always like that. He's always exaggerating everything. Making a big fuss out of nothing. It has been a month with him and this is killing me already". I couldn't find the right words to answer, I just walked back to our table.

I looked at the somehow good looking guy in his late twenties and his friends: they had no idea what was going on in that moment. I kept waiting for what would happen next, since Amgad was uncontrollable. A waiter asked me: "Is it that guy over there?" I shrugged. "Well you know sir, if it was a guy flirting a girl, we would have taken some measures.. but this is out of our hands. They are both guys!" I wasn't comfortable with what that garçon was saying. Why were I shoved in the middle of this pointless drama?

Amgad sat next to me. I asked for another Tequila and told him:

"Hey you! Why all this?"

"I am with someone here; plus apparently he has been spying on me all that time, knowing that I am only having Tequila shots tonight. Please Digg. It's okay. Leave me for now".

I smiled. If "contradiction" existed in flesh and blood, it would have been infront of me, in both guys: Wael and Amgad were the total extremes in exaggerating each side of the faithful relationship. Wael was addicted to sex. Amgad was addicted to showing off.

The rest of the night passed calmly, but Samer, Shatz and I were wondering: Why did the somehow good looking in his late twenties guy pick Amgad, the committed guy, and left three single hot boys?

Sometimes, you just laugh on how ironic and contradicted life is!

:: More Freaks on the Loose

2007-03-21T10:59:00.000+02:00

" I'm trouble,
Yeah trouble now,
I'm trouble ya'll,
I got trouble in my town! "

- P!nk

Why do you have to fake your emotions, if they all would fall back in one big lie discovered after a rarely sensational, usually devastating, fuck? I tried seeing an excuse for all this rather unexplained attitude, I failed convincing myself with any given reason. Dicks, butts, bareback or protected: it's the same scenario. What is astonishing in this matter, not only the fact of lying, but the whole stage built for one target: get into your pants. Why don't you simply walk closer, come next to my ear and whisper: I want to fuck you. I believe I would have an exceptional sex night that way.

Please, no drama!

He fell in love 26 times. When I asked him how could he has done that, he simply said: "I felt weak infront of them. They all loved me". I had to stop and think: were all relationships these days a one sided direction love equations? Do we all get satisfied when we are loved -or even worshipped by someone? I saw some of the people he had been with, I couldn't find any common pattern, except them wanting to fuck him. Knowing that my friend Wael is too kind, all men he met always played a certain game in order to get laid with him. That relationship might span a week, month or maybe 6. If he is a freak for falling in love 26 times with 26 different guys, they were all worse for trying to be the 7th, 16th or maybe the 25th; or even using his shacked vision about "relationship" in order to squeeze him for the longest time possible. When I knew him more, Wael admitted that he has truly fell in love only once, and it was a classic: his love was Spanish. They fell in love when Wael stayed there for almost a year. Everything was perfect, but he had to come back. They are still in touch, they are still in need to get together. All the actual passing people are simply stations that will lead Wael back to his Matador, although he is actually playing with two different bulls: his latest boyfriend and his lover.

Wael is actually on his 27th love relationship. Although they are in their first month together, he mistakenly had sex with Loren. Things are more complicated than what they seemed to me at first while: Loren actually has a boyfriend in Lebanon while the very same Loren is Wael's lover best friend. The way I read the messages in Loren's eyes while going out all together, or how Wael looks at me when he feels uncomfortable with the way he is sitting between his Lover and Fucker. Wael doesn't know how to say No. He goes with the flow, he does what the others want and he loves sex.

I met Karim a week ago. He's a fine 22 years old boy. When he told me he had been in a relationship that lasted 5 years, I wanted to know more about that mess. He actually fell in love with a 29 years old doctor when he was barely 15 years old. Not only he forced Karim to get money by any mean to support their lives, but he also made up many fake reasons and excuses to stop him from going to University. Karim reached a level that made him lost his temper, so to prove his love (and his need for that constant money flow) the doctor insisted that Karim joins him in his operations, inside the OR. He used to learn what his boyfriend used to do and one of those days, he actually operated on one of the drugged patients.

"Karim, I will cut the skin and you do the muscles", said the doctor.

"No. Wait, I am not ready for that", answered Karim while looking at the nurse.

"You have to! I want you to do it!"

"Okay, let me do the skin incision and you do the muscles. I don't want to screw her!", said Karim while taking the tools.

"You'll stitch her up when done then!", precised the doctor.

Karim bit his lip, and slowly nodded while picking up the scalpel.

Amgad follows the same pattern: "It's the end of the month. I am just an employee. I don't have money on me". You really don't care about that minor detail, especially that you have already chatted with him for a while and talked over the phone for another era. Amgad is such an entertaining person, intellectual character, creative and charming but why playing?

You usually end up having sex with him, after inviting him for a dinner or coffee with chocolate fudge. He assures you he is top and doesn't allow discussion in that matter, but a sudden flow of emotions hits you when you start making out. He actually "loves you" to the extent that he is ready to be bottom just for you, and you, and you and, yes, you too.

I chatted with Hassan for a while but never saw his pictures. He sounded smart, studying dentistry and having a promising career in his father's clinic. I decided to meet him, one day, and have an idea about this person that I liked his mentality online. He looked cute, good-enough-to-have-sex-with category. We decided meeting a month later for a talk then surely a fuck. While waiting for my strong coffee in Cilantro and his decafinated one, I was guessing what his Zodiac would be. Based on his attitude, I doubted that he would be a Capricorn but needed to make sure:

"Hassan, are you religious?", I asked while sipping my coffee.

"Oh yes, very much. I do my best in that. What about you?"

I looked around me, and decided to play:

"Oh yeah, me too. I go to Church every Sunday".

Hassan froze and starred at me. I smiled while seeing his face go from healthy red to green-yellow. To save him from fainting, I quickly said:

"Come on, I am Muslim. What's up with all this mess you had?"

"Digg, I really don't like dealing with Christians. I am sorry. I am too racist when it comes to Islam".

After coffee, we had sex. He kept on saying how magnificent I was and how great sex is, how when he first met me never thought that we'd be fucking one day. Although I believed his tone, his soft dick wasn't promising anything. He kept apologizing and assuring me that it's just psychological and because I was tickling him. He miraculously came and I left.

The next morning, I found an SMS on my mobile:

Hi, i can't deny it was perfect night, and i mean it, but i don no why i have this too bad feeling, don get me wrong, but i thing that there's somethin wrong abt me, anyway, thx, take care.

As Madonna said, I gave my fuck you attitude smile, and answered:

Don't worry dear, I don't really understand what you're talking about from the first place, but I will make sure you will NEVER feel that again.

My next SMS alert was:

Well, me too, i don understand, it's just was a question on my mind, any way, forget abt it.

Extending my fuck you smile, I replied:

Sure. Forget about it all.

He didn't want to end it, no, not Hassan:

That's why i asked u don get me wrong, u don know how much i need someone like u, unless u r not MOZLIM, i know it's so weird, but this is me, really so sorry for bothering u, i need to be sure, nothin more.

My fuck you smile suddenly turned into what a freak big open mouth:

First, it's MUSLIM. And second, yes, I am proud being one.

Faster than light, I received:

Ohhhhhh, thanx a looooooooooooooot.

Hassan kept calling me afterwards and I didn't want to answer him for the rest of the day. Showers of SMSs. After one fuck, he is in love and wants to possess me, all along his racist thoughts. I understood that the lack of erection he had all night was because he thought I was Christian. What a freak!

Why can't we simply have friends, sex buddies and fuck ones while being honest and not trying to fake a whole back story? If I liked someone, I liked his body and sex for a fuck, if I liked a friend, I liked his mind and style in talks.. not his roots and backgrounds!

Again, just try, a simple try, being genuine to yourself, before interacting with people.

:: A Red Marlboro Pack

2007-03-01T14:32:00.000+02:00

" Have you Confessed? " - Madonna's Confessions Tour.

"Don't you ever think controlling my friends!", He said as He was walking out of our house. I had to wait for a couple of minutes in order to breathe! I was dying to have a cigarette, but I promised Him that I would never smoke again. Love made me stop two of my favorite habits: smoking and getting drunk. I became a modified version of myself which I liked to a certain extent but longed to my true self sometimes. I felt worry, feeling that He was dating others, that evolved into rage when He had told me a week before that He met that singer and started hanging out together. He insisted that they were friends, I insisted that this was their scenario till He confessed, a couple of days later, that the Star took Him in a tour in Jardino. He said that He rejected him. I say that they both screwed me.

I calmed down and called him. He didn't answer me. It was clear: we were on a break. That fight wasn't a simple one. I could smell His lies; and He was lying to me from the start. He just wanted to secure His defense, in case I knew anything. I left home and decided to have the ultimate cure: shopping!

I drove to some shops and kept checking what they had. It's too boring to shop for clothes in Egypt: if you can find the brand name, you are stuck with a 3 years old fashion line. My attitude, eye contacts and excess of testosterone weren't helping me to shop for clothes anyway. I was betrayed on many levels: He always kept cheating on me, either with other guys, Stars or even porn sites. What kind of spell He had on me!

Since nothing was good enough to buy, I decided going to Metro Market and refill my fridge. Ice-Cream would be excellent for that night too. I was dying for a smoke, but a promise is a promise. I slowly proceeded between the crowd, making sure I was checking every guy and rating him. If He couldn't maintain a relationship, why were I sticking to it?

When I was paying for what I bought, I saw that guy on the counter next to me. He looked hot from his back. When he turned around to pick his Red Marlboro pack; it was Tareq, my fuck buddy! When he noticed me, he waved then waited for me on Metro's exit. I took my grocery in a hurry and smiled while walking towards him. Apparently I was in a mess, since the cheese bag fell and rolled next to his sporty leg. He slowly grabbed it and gave it back to me while saying:

"Digg! How are you? Long time no see!"

"Tareq, this is unbelievable. How are you and how is..", that's when I remembered that I knew nothing about him. We were the perfect Fuck Buddy buddies! We only knew each other's first names as well as each other's sensational bodies; only. ".. life?".

"It's good, thanks. Well, shopping, huh?", he said while pointing at my Metro bags and trying to fill the awkward situation we were both feeling. We could perfectly give each other a great blowjob, fuck and wonderful sexual experience but we could not maintain a smart conversation in public. I wonder if his real name was Tareq. It's funny how intimate you can get with a person yet you know absolutely nothing about his daily routine, habits and what he generally likes and dislikes. Whenever I saw his name on my i-mate, I understood that he was calling for a fuck; otherwise, an SMS every now and then checking on each other or wishing a happy new year -just being decent!

I smiled while wondering what would I say next. He looked as hot as he always was: the tan skin, perfectly shaped body and amazing smile. I could vaguely remember him telling me that he played taekwondo in some club; it was somewhere between a neck kiss and a soft nipple bite on his fine hairy chest. He opened his reds pack and was inviting me to have one when the Metro security guy stressed on No Smoking here, sir. Tareq apologized and asked me to step outside. I was dying to have a smoke and to share it with him on bed, sofa, car or kitchen like we used to do. When I walked out, I realized that the amount of bags I was carrying actually hid my chest and some of my face. I quickly opened the car and threw everything in the trunk. Tareq laughed when he saw me totally embarrassed and acting strangely. He lit me a cigarette and said:

"Are you sure your parents asked you for all these fancy grocery?"

I looked at the cigarette he was handing me by then and said:

"Oh, no no no! At all. I am not with my parents, I am actually living..", what were I supposed to say? With Him? " .. alone!"

I took the cigarette but held it next to me. I was dying to have a breath, inhale it all inside of me, make it replace this rage I was feeling towards Him. I couldn't. I just kept waving my hand, wishing it could accidentally fall. He quickly answered:

"Oh wow! That must be great. Are you staying in Heliopolis?"

"Yeah, Al-Oboor buildings!", I said, hypnotized by the smoke he was blowing, his lips and the desire that vividly moved in my mind. It wasn't only the cigarette that I wanted, I could hardly move my eyes off his chest, arms, neck, butt, bulge and Marlboro pack. When I couldn't control it anymore, I took a deep breath off my almost ending cigarette that made me touch base and regain my common senses: I quickly ended the conversation, knowing that he wanted to come home with me. I couldn't let him come, I might have been on a break, but I couldn't cheat on Him.

As I moved with the car, driving home, I dialed His number. When I got No Answer, I felt bad and thought going to His parents' house and talk to Him about what happened but my Ice-Cream couldn't wait that long; or at least that was what I convinced myself with. A couple of minutes later, I parked my car under my place and started the battle of holding all the bags together. Even though I tried applying Rachel Ray's tips and tricks when it comes to that matter, I became certain that there had been a stunt. I took the elevator, praying that I won't collapse when it suddenly stops on my floor or while I was slowly entering the kitchen. When the bags were down and critical things stored, I grabbed my ice-cream, took off my shirt and sat enjoying the night's fresh breeze and Mövenpick's citrus slowly melting on my tongue. I looked at the bottle of Red Wine I bought as well, and decided to have a night for myself. I played my sound system, tuned on Norah Jones. He never liked Norah Jones; I should listen to her then. I couldn't explain the fact of doing the undoable when two partners are on a break. In less than 3 hours, I smoked, met Tareq, drank wine and listened to Norah Jones.. what worse could happen.

Ding! Dong! I opened the door. When I saw Tareq infront of me, I just thought that could happen.

"Digg. I am sorry I just.. followed you."

He followed me to my place. Our place to be precise. It was like a 4 years old boy who had just found the hiding place where his mother keeps all the candies. Of course, I was the 4 years old boy. I smiled and quickly moved away from the door, inviting him to walk in. He put his bag on the floor and looked around the house:

"Nice! I can see you really like modern!"

"What do you expect from an IT guy? I told you that I am an IT engineer, haven't I?"

"Maybe Digg, maybe", he said it while getting closer to my lips. I was turned on by his warm breath, mixed with tobacco and light Adidas perfume. I couldn't resist the temptation because I simply didn't want to. He put the palm of his hand on my back and slowly moved it down to feel my body's curves. I lusted for his talented and perfectly synched passion we expressed. Slowly, I undressed him and exposed his firm chest to the soft air breeze that was coming from the open window, vainly cooling our hot bodies. I felt guilty, but enjoyed the bitterness that I was practicing. There is something about forbidden actions, ever since Adam had the Apple. I was wilder in sex with Tareq that night, knowing that what I was doing was wrong. If I would cheat, may it be perfectly right.

A couple of hours later, clothes spread everywhere and two glasses of almost emptied wine, I was sitting between Tareq's legs, naked, and sharing one cigarette as we used to do:

"Digg! It was amazing this time."

"Don't you think so?", I answered while taking a smoke.

He gently moved his hand in my hair and said: "I have to go babes". Yes. He had to go. We finished our fuck and I started feeling guilty with both the smoke and the dick that were in my system that night. I took a side and found my melted Ice-Cream. I took the spoon and had a sip. Tareq quickly dressed up, took the ice-cream and while approaching my lips, again, said: "Honey, there is something on your lip".

The few remaining hours before sleeping, I felt very disappointed in what I did, twice! The fact that I took the first opportunity to cheat on Him was not accepted, even if I knew whatever games He was having. Next morning, I woke up with my mobile's SMS sound. I slowly looked at it, and hardly read His name and "Good Morning. Coffee's ready". I slowly stepped off the bed, and dragged myself slowly, driven by the smell of fresh American Coffee.

There He was, sitting in the kitchen with two big mugs of coffee.

"Would you like some cake?"

I didn't want cake with my coffee. I wanted a cigarette.

H, I had to confess this.