Everything I seem to do reminds me of you. No matter how hard I try to look away, you’re there staring back in my face. I feel so miserable I just want to pull the hair out of my head. I try to do everything to get you out of mind; whether it be through endless shopping on CREDIT, going out to parties, or even getting a new boyfriend. Nothing seems to work. You’re so good at this. How do you do it? Can you tell me your secret? I want to know how you forgot me so fast. I want to forget you too. I want to forget you so badly. And everytime I think I am, everytime I think I’m better, I think of you. I think of all the things about you that made me giggle. Sometimes I long for those days to return. I feel pathetic and retarded for falling for a man I don’t even know. I ask God everyday why I feel this way? I sometimes question myself if I brought this all onto myself. Whether you were a gift to me, and I simply threw you away because of my own careless stupidity.
I walked into the liquor store for the fifth time this past week. I’ve been an alcohol junkie for the past 2 months. It’s to the point where if I’m feeling shitty enough, I take it straight from the bottle. I want to die, yet I don’t because I know that’s just stupid. The numbness that conquers my emotions at night fades away in the morning and kills me in the afternoon; when the clock hits 9, my cycle begins. While I was staring at the selections of Vodka up on the shelf, I heard that damn song by Jack Johnson. I found myself humming along by the song’s end while I managed to feel a few tears down my face. Then some man yelled to his son, who coincidentally bore the same name as you, to quit playing with the beer bottles. I thought why, of all people, would God be pulling a stunt like this on me. It hasn’t just happened once or twice, but many many times. For instance, I was over at my aunt’s house for dinner last night, and I met a little 9 year old girl named Samantha (nicknamed Sammy) that was my aunt’s friend’s daughter. She was a bit chubby too. Everywhere I go, I see remnants of YOU. At the golf course, at the shopping mall, at home, just… everywhere. I then began to stare wide-eyed at the Jack and Grey Goose on the shelves, and grabbed one of each flavor. I’ve learned how to mix my own drinks. Aren’t you proud of me? I’m turning into… into you.
You’re right though. Why must you wait on me? I’m not real. I’m nothing anyways…
"You caught me on a bad day… Today is Ju3mah. Speaking to you tempts me. You are 7araam. We mustn’t talk anymore…"
Of all the things that could possibly be wrong with me, he chose to leave me because I was not Muslim, but a Christian—and only in name, in fact. It saddens me that my choice of faith has been the cause of my sad parting with a man that I thought “could have been” more than just last night’s dessert. We would stay up all night, sprawled out on my deck, staring at the stars and talking about everything from Shakespeare to Homer to Puccini. I sincerely thought that I was on the start of a wonderful relationship. And obviously, I was wrong on that assessment.
In case anyone is wondering what 7araam means, 7araam (pronounced “ha-rahm”) in Arabic literally translates to ”forbidden”. In otherwords, anything that is haraam is prohibited by faith. He asserted that I was forbidden, and would ultimately lead him to sin. First off, he’s a 33 year-old divorced Muslim. Not to mention he’s had sex with 6 women. He also drinks, and occassionally smokes. All of which are against Islamic Law. Oh, and being in a relationship or even MARRYING A CHRISTIAN is NOT against Islamic Law. Islamic Law states that a Muslim may marry anyone that believe in the children of Abraham. That means, a Muslim may marry other Muslims (duh), Jews, and Christians.
I know more about Islam than he does, and I’m not even Muslim.
Read the Qur’an bitch… I did.
Me: Hey, am I haraam?
Muslim Friend: Other than you being all hotness, nope. You’re all halal baby!
To my dear dongseng……..I know I’m not *close* to you, but it saddens me for you to be filled with so much anger, confusion, and frustration……but It’s been awhile since I read a happy entry. It’s difficult to keep in touch with you because you’re uber busy. But I just want to say, in some way I can relate to your situation. You know the story about my ex and me. You know how it was difficult for me to let go. Still is……… The hardest thing was….what to do with the memories, the feelings………….the love. Where do they go? Use the memories to learn from your mistake and make sure they’re not done again. The feelings……..new ones will emerge when you meet somebody else. The love………….save it for *him*. The one……you know……… Don’t have to reply back…….
Because that’s what people do. They leap, and hope to God they can fly, because otherwise. you just drop like a rock, wondering the whole way down, why in the hell did I jump? - Hitch, 2005
In every relationship we endeavor to find the one, we make a leap of faith that is essentially a testament of faith in ourselves, in others, and in some cases, God. There are times when we feel that with every leap of faith, we put more than just our limbs at risk. This notion hits us, and we begin to panic, close up, and steer away from what possibly could be a great new change in our life. Many people don’t realize arms and legs can be broken, and so too can the heart, but they also can all be mended. So when you’re standing on that cliff, ask yourself this: is this person worth jumping for even if they weren’t there to catch you? Are they worth the broken limbs, and possibly a broken heart? And if you answer yourself “no”, in most cases, you would jump anyway because that’s what people do. As human beings, we take risks because that is how we learn. All risks come with consequences, but regardless of what they are we will never know until we actually do it.
With every relationship that ends, we learn (or at least try to) what we want and do not want for ourselves. We all seek that someone who we feel completes us, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Someone who inspires us to become an even better person than we already are; who motivates us to succeed in life and doesn’t see us as mediocre, but pushes us to become someone far greater than what we ever envisioned for ourselves; someone we learn something new from everyday, who excites us with every gesture, every touch, and every kiss; and someone who believes in us as much as they believe in themselves. And when we have found this person, we pray and ask God to let this person be the one because the idea of having to leap one more time would just be too hard to endure.
The truth is, there is no such thing as the one. Nobody is perfect, and certainly everyone has their flaws. What happens is as we mature, we learn to make exceptions. And it is because of love—and most importantly, time—that we make exceptions and accept these flaws as something beautiful within their character. It’s true when people say faces attract, but personalities keep because with age, faces change and ultimately what we are left with is everything else that makes that face of theirs eternally beautiful. That, is what makes our one.
Do you agree? What charactertistics do you look for in your “one”?