A forest of my own.

In the forest where none may pass but you, I walk down a steep hill along the river’s stream, I hear its gurgling and it reminds me of your breath over my neck every night. Peace of mind is what I find listening to streams. And you were my peaceful melody of all times. I stumble upon the roots of some currently withered flowers, some pink and others are blue, your favorite colors. I bet they were as dazzling as we were one day.

I think I saw a glimpse of you, your colored shadow that beamed through the darkness of this place. My heart was thumping like a horse’s hoof on a dirt road, as I tripped over a wooden trunk. My face in the mud, my hands lie uncomplainingly beside my body. I remember that is how you found me years ago, helplessly lying on the ground, looking into the hole of my nothingness. Only this time I can intensely feel everything that is going on around me, the calmness of this place is intensifying even the sounds of my thoughts. I’m out of breath, totally drawn to the ground by the earth’s gravity. I secretly wish you would find me again. My heartbeats were calling for the underground creatures to never come out of their hiding place. I had a war in my mind, my laboured breath was the only sign I was still alive.

I clenched my hands into the wet mud, and crawled to the nearest dry land. I wanted to scratch your name on a near-by rock and then smash it down the hill. I feel the need to throw you out of my life and watch you fade. But I could hear your words in my bones, my now fragile breaking bones. You are the sweetest poison, Love.

The clouds are conspiring with you against me, I can see no sunlight. The trees are closing on me. The ribs of my chest are expanding on my body’s expanse with every exhale, and crushing my heart with every inhale. I wanted to let go of myself. I wanted to get rid of the person I was, for you. I wanted to scream, but I could barely speak. I was tongue-tied.

The forest, my Love, yearns to listen to our story. My burned desire had to be put into words. All the tremor-less, seizure-free nights were only a part of the blessings you threw into my life. I am flawless, and alone. I wish you would let me run back to you.

I’d gladly suffocate myself inside the infinitude of your thoughts. All the parts of yourself that you despise, are the parts I desire the most. You have become a physical necessity.

The Becoming.

I’m becoming a walking mess. All the guidelines I drew for myself are now hazy lines, I even doubt they still exist. How could someone that was always that sure of any and every thing turn into someone that doubts even their own existence? I wonder how the ground manages to shift from underneath you after you’ve finally felt that you’ve got the grips of it. Is there anything certain in this world? I mean who says I’m alive? Or that I am not someone else’s shadow from his past life screwing up his present life or may I say his afterlife? I don’t know. I don’t want to either.

I’m becoming a walking mess, and surprisingly, I don’t think I mind. I know they think I’m out of my mind, and they might be right, but I don’t care either. I might not know much, but I know that not all those who wander are lost; one must wander to find himself. I also know that numbness is a state of mind, where you get to block all the pain and sadness you don’t want to feel, but you cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness too. It is complicated for some people, but for me, it is easier. When you stop feeling things, you don’t have to react to anything anymore, you save your energy for yourself; you get to exist in silence, in peace.

I’m becoming a walking mess that is now comfortable with being emotionally detached from all of the surroundings. If people fail to understand the importance of spaces, you’re responsible in front of yourself to ask for it, demand space to breathe.

I was a person that was into anything for the long run, I was always in too deep. I was pushed into happiness by the moving crowd, but now, I am happily unhappy.

There are so many times when you know you’re feeling a lot of something, but you don’t know what the something is. So to the person I’ve been, if you’re still out there listening, I want you to know that there is nothing wrong with not understanding yourself. But I’m still here, and at the end of the day, that is what really matters for both of us.


-One of the pieces I had to write for my writing course.


لا أظن أنك تلاحظ ولكني أنسى كل كلامي حين أراك, أعلم بـإن ذكائي يسعفني وإني دائما ما أجد كلاما آخر أقوله لك, ولكني لا أتقبل فكرة أن تعبث بـعقلي كلما سمحت لك الفرصة.

لا أظن أنك تعلم ولكنك إنت الوحيد الذي ينطق إسمي بخلاف الطريقة التي أحبها ولكني لا أبالي.

لا أظن أنك تلحظ بريق عيني الذي إنت السبب في وجوده.

لا أظن أنك قد سمعتني وانا أحكي لاصدقائك عنك و أصفك كأنك شخص جديد عليهم.

لا أظن أنك تهتم لكونك الرجل الوحيد الذي سمحت له إن يقبل كف يدي لإعتقادي إن معنى هذه القبلة من الممكن تحقيقه; وهو إن تكون لي وأكون لك.


لا أظن أني أريد أحد غيرك, ولكني لا أقوى على الإعتراف بـذلك في بعض الأحيان.

لا أظن أني أصدق تماما فكرة وجودك في حياتي, فدائما ما ابعدك عني لأرى إن كنت ستعود ام أنت من وحي خيالي.

لا أظن أني قلت لك من قبل إني أحبك.


لا أظن أنهم يعلمون مدى ارتباطي بك, فـأنا لا أحب أن أفصح الكثير عني.

لا أظن أنهم يعلمون إني على إستعداد تام أن أهرب معاك إن طلبت إنت ذلك.

لا أظن أني أريدهم أن يعلموا إنك حقيقي فـيطلبوا مني الرحيل وتركك. ولكن الأهم, لا أظن أنك تبالي.


فـأنت وعدتني أنك هنا لتبقى, وأنك لا تعير إهتمام لأي أحد لا يعترف بنا.

أثق بك, وأثق في نفسي لأني معك.

أغار عليك ولا أحاول إخفاء ذلك.

أفتقدك في حضورك حين تنشغل عني بـحديث لست أنا طرف فيه.


ولكني لم أعترف لك أبدا أني أكره نفسي بعض الأحيان لأني سمحت لك إن تكون إنت محور حياتي.

فعلاقتي بك يتخللها الكره والولع على حد سواء.

أكتب لك.

أكتب لك من شرفة منزلي بـحي المعادي المفضل لديك, أدخن سيجارتي الخامسة اليوم واستمع لموسيقى الجيران تكسر هدوء الليل. لا أعرف ماذا أقول لك, ولكني شعرت بـرغبة مفاجأة للكتابة عنك واليك. لا دعني أمحو ذلك, أنا أعرف تحديدا ماذا أريد أن أقول, ولكني لا أعتقد انني بـإمكاني أن أقول لك ايا من هذا الكلام.

كيف استطيع ان أصيغ كلماتي حتى لا تسيء فهمي, كيف أقول لك إني رحلت من اجل نفسي, من أجل ان أسعى وراء ما أريده أنا. كانت لك حياتك وكانت حياتي جزء منها, و أنا أردت دائما ان تكون حياتنا معا ولكن ليس حد صعوبة الفصل بينهما. كنت أنت تريد أن تكون الأول في كل شيء, وكأنه كرم منك أن تسمح ليَّ ان احيا في ظلك.

غريب كيف يقع الإنسان في حب صفة بشرية ثم تتحول هذه الصفة إلى سبب رحيله الأساسي عن من أحب. كنت تحرك حياتي بـسلاسة كأنها عادة يومية بالنسبة لك, وكنت أنا أقف في إندهاش غريب معتقدة أن أي اتجاه تدفعني اليه هو الأحسن ليّ, وإني حتى إن لم أعلم بـذلك الآن, فإني سأفرح لاحقا.

أتعجب من تفاصيل حياتنا معا, ولكن أكثر مايجذب انتباهي هو كيف سمحت لك إن تتسلل اليَّ, أن تعرف كل تجاويف جسدي وتتنبأ بـجميع أفكاري, والأهم أن تحفظ كل أسراري والقصص ورائها. كيف حولتني من فتاه تخشى القرب وفي أغلب الأحيان ترحل عن كل من أحبت لأسباب ليس لها وجود, إلى فتاه تعلقت بك حد الانصهار. من الملام هنا؟ وكيف لي أن أعرف باي حال. تبقى أنت اللغز الأكبر في صفحات الماضي التي أهرب منه مرارا وتكرارا لأجدني أعود له, لأضيع مرة أخرى في مكان مألوف.

أكتب لك الآن, أكتب عن ذكراك. وسأظل أكتب حتى تصبح ذكرى يصعب عليَّ الإلمام بـأي من تفاصيلها. وبحذر ككل ليلة, سأطوي هذا الجواب وأضعه في الصندوق التي اهديتني إياه منذ أرْبع سنوات, مع كل قصاصات الورق المنقوش عليها اسمك, ومع كل زجاجة خمر احتسيتها لانساك ومع كل قطرة دم سالت مني في محاولة بائسة لللحاق بك إلى العالم الأخر.

أكتب لك الليلة وأنا مازلت غارقة في أسفي على الرحيل فجأة, لأني لم تتسنى ليَّ الفرصة أن أودعك وان أوصد باب ذكرياتنا جيدا حتى لا تعود أجزاء منك لتطاردني كل مامررت بـجانب بيتك. فإنت القصة التي اخترت أن أنهيها ولكن الله أراد أن يجعل للأحداث بقية, وكتب نهاية لم تخطر على بالي ابدا. فها أنا أجلس في بيت زوجي, نترحم أنا وأخيك عليك كل ما ذكر اسمك, وأعلم أنه ليومنا هذه يشكر الله إنه سمح له بـموتك التقرب ليَّ, والزواج مني في نهاية المطاف لمشاركتنا الأسى عليك.

هو أقرب شيء لك, ولكني مازلت أشتاق اليك..

The Un-piece.

This is a piece we had to write at the writing course, we were supposed to use “un” along with verbs even if they don’t exist. And here is my attempt.


She could never unremember all their memories together no matter how hard she tried, there are parts of you that are unerasable. She stood there unable to regain her balance. Unembraced was her all time condition without him. Even after all these years, she was never uncertain of how she felt. She believed some things are meant to fade by time, and others are there for eternity. But she never understood why certain things never lasted, and if they didn’t, couldn’t God make it a bit easier for her to unwish all these thoughts upon another shooting star. He left her in a state of an unfixed damage, with unfinished plans. As she stands by his grave tonight, she wishes she could unmeet him, or at least unsay all the words that left a mark on his heart. She wanted to ease the guilt she felt. He left her because she was never enough for him, in fact she knows she isn’t enough for anyone, not even herself. It is true the damaged love the damaged, but she was beyond repair. She was a mess of infinite apathy.

He always promised he had enough love for both of them, but along the road, he fell out of love. Unconstrained she let the words flow outloud for the first time in her life. All her daddy issues were nothing compared to the fact that she could have been with him but chose not to, because she was never able to unlove the first man in her life after he left for another family. And it was a bit too late to undo all the mess she has left behind.


To fall in and out.

I hid all my philosophies somewhere dark and twisty. I was so determined to distract my thoughts long enough for you to find them wandering somewhere.

I managed to hide them from the whole world, but risked putting them out on the table, just for you.

I have experienced the feeling of being naked without having to unbutton my shirt.

But having your feelings diminished is just another feeling you will have to experience throughout your life.

I don’t fear rejection, I have been rejected by myself, and that is the worst that can happen.

You wanted to be in my life, and I let you. I let you be.

Or that is what I thought.

Turns out, you slipped through the cracks of my soul. You took my hits. You pushed back when I pushed you away.

But then, you fell out of love, and you decided to slip right back; out of my life.

You have reluctantly decided to widen my cracks.

Apathy of a heart and mind.

It was a winter night, not like any other. The moon’s absence made it a little more gloomy.

I sat there on my rocking chair, next to the fire I lit earlier while I waited for her to come home.

It was five past 11. The ticking of every second sucked the life out of me slowly, as if it was deducting these minutes out of my lifetime. I knew it was not going to be like every night.

Half an hour past her usual timing, I finally heard her keys by the door, thinking that anything I might say now will probably make everything even worse.

I stood up as she reluctantly kissed me on the cheek as if she was racing to make it to her room, before I could even have a look at her.

I pulled her hand as fast as I could before she could slip out of my arms, and gently whispered into her ears, “he called you today on your other cellphone that you left at the breakfast table when you were in a hurry to go out before I woke up.”

I bet a million ideas stormed through her head; why did he call, what did he say, did he hang up before I picked up, how could the person she is married to be so calm about this, what did I find out anyway, but she was interrupted by another calm tone, “I’m guessing he is the same man you introduced to me as your associate at work, except this time he was less stressed than last time. Now I understand why.”

A minute passed as if it was almost five nights, no one cared to move, we both knew we would break in halves if we did.

The sound of silence was disturbed by the clock striking twelve, as if that was god’s sign for her to let go of all the words she has been keeping from me.

“Remember the time you told me even if you had me all figured out you’d still look at me the same way you did when we first found out that our favorite two singers are actually happily married now, and that their next song is a duet that we both couldn’t wait to hear?”, she wasn’t waiting for an answer. “Remember the first time you told your parents about me, how they were so angry at you for keeping it a secret, and how you stormed out of the house that night only to storm in the very next day with me by your side?”

I still didn’t make a sound.

“But what I really wish you would remember is the time you told me that whenever I drifted away, you would come out of your way for me everytime, because you knew how I have a tendency of always losing my way.”

My head was silent. I was quiet, as I have been for the last three months, I couldn’t find the words to turn around the conversation.

Her head was a mess, it was a new kind of mess to her, I could tell, but somehow she knew exactly what she wanted to say, the words came out with no hesitation, “I am tired, not worn out, but worn through.”

We sat across each other, staring at what we have become. I wanted to speak, I wanted to say anything, I wanted to ask her about that man, what has he to offer that I didn’t, I wanted to know how far have they gone, but I couldn’t.

“You know, the days passed one at a time, and sometimes less than one at a time. At days you were here, you, the one I have known my whole life, and the next day, I prayed to only see a glimpse of you.”

I knew there was days when I didn’t react to anything she said, the days I felt the need to hide, even from her, I just didn’t want to exist. I couldn’t explain my need to myself, but I have been told that there’s nothing wrong with not understanding yourself.

She always saw through me, she is the kind of person that would know a flaw exists but acts as if it is not there, and that made me comfortable around her. My mind was always quiet around her, I didn’t have to invent anything. I didn’t have to be anything but myself.

“The man that called means nothing to me, he is just someone that cared enough to notice my new hair cut, and brought me morning coffee everyday with a countdown note to my birthday, but he is nothing, he can’t be anything, he is not you.”

I wanted to be empty like an overturned pitcher, but I was full like a stone. I started to realize in my head that I have been out of my life for a while now. I have been running away from everything I know. It was tiring at first, but I got used to being on the run. I thought that if I am moving, it means I shall get somewhere soon. I spent the last couple of months trying to feel less. More and more, it felt like I’m doing a really bad impersonation of myself. But what I totally missed is that she is a part of life, she is a part I should run to, drown into, but instead, I reluctantly put her with the rest of the world that I was angry at for no apparent reason, or maybe I had my reasons, but that isn’t the issue right now.

she stood up, and I knew I had to say anything, but what do you say when the person that you have loved for your whole life tells you that they gave up on you and stopped missing you.

My heavy breathing made it even harder to concentrate on any thought, but I finally did, “I’m sorry. I have always wanted to protect you from every possible heartbreak that might come your way, I guess I never realized I was going to be one of them.”

Her eyes glowed with sadness from across the room, it broke my heart into pieces more than what my heart was made of. And just as she allowed her first tear to run down her cheek, I was by her side crying my heart out, silently. I have stopped her world from spinning only to spin it the other way around.

I swore I would never forgive myself for making her beg for me when I was supposed to be  the only constant in her life.

I took her to bed, and watched her cry herself to sleep. I didn’t have any comforting words to tell her, I didn’t have it in me anymore. I wished so bad that she would leave me the next morning. I wanted her to be well again. I was a mess, an unfixable mess.

I stayed up all night trying to figure out if it is easier to just walk away from everything, I tried to think about her as well, but all I could ever think of is that I have turned into a cold-hearted man, and there is no way of coming back. I have known misery, and I was fine with it. I have known numbness and I was always yearning for it. I knew that the key to this life, is to either feel too much and be willing to deal with the consequences, or feel nothing. Apathy has become my favorite feeling. She was the best thing that has ever happened to me and I couldn’t let myself turn her into someone she can’t recognize.

I packed a suitcase that night, and left before she even woke up. I left her a paper on my side of the bed that said I was going away for a month, I was setting on a journey to get myself back, I wanted to be whole for her again.

I never looked back that day, I knew I have messed up two lives, but I wanted to move on from the draining circle I fell into.

A month passed, I came back, I was still empty but I was eager to be filled with her, everything of her; I realized how her night ramblings meant so much to me, how her silly laughs healed my heart slowly. I remember how I used to smile at her whenever she got home looking clumsy after a long day at work. I remember how she used to touch my hand and how that set fire to my mind. I remember when we kissed on the kitchen table one time and I realized that the neighbors were watching but I didn’t want to stop her and how pissed she was at me the next day when our neighbor hinted that. I remember how she made me feel. Yes, I was never enough for myself, but she was always enough for me. I sank deep into misery when I realized I am inadequate, I was angry at the world, at god, for not letting me see how she was and will always be the missing piece. But now I know better.


I used the keys, got into the house, her scent filled the place. The lights were off. I thought maybe she’s asleep.


“You were never enough for yourself, and I couldn’t be enough for you no matter how hard I tried. I’m afraid this is not for a month, it is for a lifetime. You wanted to not feel pain, but you missed out on happiness as well. I loved you for everything we were and I stopped when you stopped loving yourself. I’m sorry for the two of us. There was no way around it. We could not climb over it, or walk until we found its edge. Everything is as it is, I just took my things, which you probably won’t notice anyway. I don’t wish you bad. And I know you will always come back and haunt me.”


The note on the fridge said…shattering me into pieces all over the kitchen floor, just beside that kitchen table.


– The end.

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