We all sit around the dinner table.
Some placid, some temperamental, some simply lost in thought.
Pessimism smirks at me, ”I told you so”, he spits arrogantly from across the table, peering over at the vulnerable.
Anxiety fidgets at the edge of her seat as she agrees, ”I knew it, he’s always right”. Slowly she slips away into a trance of destructive overthinking and self blame.
Anger’s eyes pierce through me, his silence dangerous.
I sink into my seat as sadness continues to gnaw away at me.
Hope gently places her warm, wrinkled hand on mine as she leans in beside me, ”You did your best beloved”.
Anger and Pessimism erupt into laughter, Anxiety frantically shakes her head ”No you didn’t!”.
Love stares blankly at the plate in front of her, reminiscing on the endless endearments she whispered and fond kisses she gifted generously. She turns to give me a faint smile to reassure me.
Depression quietly picks at her plate, slouched in her chair at the end of the table. Terrified at the sight of her I turn away.
That’s enough for tonight.
I blow out the candle and call it a night.
“Shams”, the arabic word for sun. (Pronounced Sham-ss)
The sun smiles down at me and I frown back. The air is fresh but it feels like my lungs have collapsed as nostalgia firmly wraps around my respiratory tract. I sit by the window and watch the trees sway in the breeze, reminiscing on days like these when it was just you and me.
I wonder if you’re smiling under the sun, the sound of your sweet laughter filling the air. I wonder if you’re squinting at the light, blissful without a care. I sit by the window and watch the trees sway in the breeze, wondering if you miss me on days like these.
My body aches and my bones feel brittle.
My limbs feel weak and my face has shrivelled.
But it was worth every sleepless night to watch you sleep throughout the night.
If you cage a bird that does not belong to you or does not want to stay, even in a locked cage it will find a way to fly away.
If you hold on to someone that is not meant to be yours or does not want to stay, eventually you will have to part ways.
What is meant to be yours will always find its way back to you, no obstacle can prevent a blessing that is meant to stay.
I never love, to be loved.
I love because I love to love.
However, the tragedy strikes when I am told I am loved, because then I expect to always be loved. – S.Alaa
People love the idea of me, they love the idea of having someone as kind and sweet as me, but they don’t really love me. They don’t love all of me, only the good and not the bad. They only want me during the best of times never during the worst.
They choose me or keep me around because I am the better choice. But I want to be chosen because they feel no one can compare to me.I want to be the only choice. I want to be chosen because they want to wake up by my side everyday, they want to deal with my bad habits no one elses, they would rather fight with me than live in peace without me. They don’t choose me because of how they feel for me, they choose me because of how I make them feel.
You see, when someone wants you for the way they feel for you, even when you’re not at your best or not treating them in the best possible manner they still want you. They don’t look at you and think of the good and make a decision based upon that, they think of your bad and despite that want to be with you.
When someone wants you for the way you make them feel based on the things you do, they don’t want you around when you’re not or havent been at your best. They are impatient and don’t see you worthy of their time and effort. Someone who truly loves you cannot stay away from you despite the circumstances good or bad. If people pick and choose when to love you or when they want you based on the circumstances, then they dont really love you.
I was never wanted because of the way you felt. I was only kept around for the way I made you feel. For the kind things I did, the love I filled you up with and the smile I’d constantly smear on your face.
You never loved me, just the idea of me. – S.Alaa
Your current is dangerous and when it is still, it is waiting to be provoked. I do not know whether to stay on the shore and wait till your currents have calmed to sail again or locate a new ocean to sail. I am in the in between.
I am unsure whether in time you will welcome me back to join you or churn up a storm to keep me out. Perplexed, I sit at the edge of the shore. Yet, I feel like I am anchored to the bottom of the sea bed, chained around my ankles, floating aimlessly just below the surface of the sea. I cannot sink to the bottom nor am I able to float to the top. Now do you understand? I am in the in between.
It feels like I am staring at the face of a clock, gnawing as the minute hand goes back and forth between two dials, waiting for it to make one revolution. And I think to myself, can it be fixed or is it time to get a new clock? I am in the in between.
It feels as though I am climbing a mountain, oxygen concentrations are depleting, I am exhausted and weak. But I have almost made it to the top, shall I take this as a victory in itself or climb cautiously and tactically to the top? I am in the in between.
Do I hold on and wait or let go? There is nothing more torturous than false hope.
I am in the in between. – S.Alaa
I am the lighthouse that has guided you through your darkest nights.
At times my light may have been dimmer than other nights, but I have always been alight.
Like other ships, you may think you can take the tides without me but one day you will miss my light.
When sharp coast rocks graze against you and the angry ocean tides crash against you, you will look for my light in the chaos of the night.
Like other ships, you may sail off searching for a better light, but one day you will come back in search of my light.
I am the lighthouse that has always kept you safe at night.
One day my love, you will miss my light. – S. Alaa
Plates filled with half eaten cookies, sweet like your kisses; tea cups half full with your favourite type of tea, but now cold and bitter like your temper.
The sun has set and our play date is over, but I will still take a stroll over the white picket fence we built together and remind myself of the colour of your skin, that resembles the sun rise of a new day.
I will sit on my favourite swing and watch as yours, adjacent to mine, rustles gently in the wind and I will sing your favourite lullaby for when you search for something to help you sleep at night.
The sun has set and our play date is over, but I will still set a pot of your favourite type of tea and pretend that this is not goodbye but a permanent game of hide and seek.
I love you, today.
I loved you yesterday,
And I will love you tomorrow.
– S. Alaa