The Night We Met Pt. 1

I see him.
I admit, it makes me miss him.
I admit, it makes me miss our days.
I see him in Canada, far away. Someone I no longer know.
I see myself in Jeddah, far away. Someone I no longer know.
I feel the cold mornings, I feel the emptiness that crawls into me. I feel the strings detaching themselves from him. I feel the heartache becoming a regular feeling.
I see him.
I admit, it makes me miss him.
I admit, it makes me miss our days.
I see him in Canada, far away. Someone I am no longer in love with, someone I am no longer with. Someone I doubt I know.
I see myself in Egypt, not so far away. Someone I am learning to know, someone I am falling in love with. Someone without him.

Dear friend,
I have been swimming in denial for a long time, and when I finally hit the shore, reality crashed in.
I have processed that I live in a stranger’s body, a stranger’s mind.
I have not lost some parts, but too many that I cannot connect the remaining ones together.
Who am I?
I have no idea. No clue.
I was someone two weeks ago, someone I can easily describe to you. However, today, I’m nothing. How can I describe a nothing?
Empty, lonely? Maybe. But not sad, no.
I don’t know, I cannot understand me enough to describe her, to describe who she has become, or still yet to become.
Whenever I think about who I am becoming, I end up with different cliffhangers.
I’m not a complete story, not just yet. It’s not my time to learn about who I will be.
For now, I’ll continue swimming in denial, hoping when I hit the shore again, I’ll hit the right one, and then I’ll understand my reality a lot more.

The Night We Met Pt. 2

I see two people in a car.
They have clicked a few days ago, but you’d think they have known each other for a longer time.
For once, they agree on one song, and they play it so loud as they drive into the night. Their voices grow louder, blending together to create something a bit more united.
Their coming together had happiness knocking on their doors.
Their coming together had given the stars of the night a bit more light.
Their coming together had created someone new as a part of their life.
I see two people in a car.
They have clicked a few days ago, but you’d think they have known each other for a longer time.
For once, they don’t know where they’re heading. However, they don’t care, because misery is nowhere to be seen, laughter is all they hear, and the night is less lonelier as it seems.

Dear ex,
Goodbyes. I have never experienced them on a high level, not when my aunt passed away this year, not when friends ghosted me, not when I lost so many parts of me.
I never truly knew what Goodbyes felt like, until I said my first and last one to you.
At first, I didn’t feel anything. In fact, I have not cried about it, yet. I don’t know if I will or not. I don’t know if I’m holding myself back or not. I do know, though, that I’m not in denial.
I have accepted my decision. I have accepted that I have to learn to keep your presence as a memory, and absence as a reality. The thought of you still brings me pain, and that’s a confirmation that I’m not over you just yet. I have accepted that I have to live with the thought of always wondering if that was the right thing or not, if I have truly hurt you or you were just trying to guilt me. I’ll have to live with too many questions, too many cliffhangers. However, it’s fine by me. I won’t dwell myself in the past, I won’t dwell myself in you.
I’m slowly learning who I am without you. I’m slowly opening myself, allowing myself to not be held back. I’m slowly growing a new skin that you have not touched. I’m slowly losing the parts you gave me. I’m slowly becoming who I truly am when I am not sad. I’m slowly flourishing. I’m slowly growing. I’m slowly healing, far from you, without you.
With all the love you’ll never have,
Raghad