it's almost that time again

When the leaves begin to fall and the summer heat turns cold. The summer flings end and we all try to buckle back down for school. As soon as the weather changes and the air turns bitter as our hearts, the fateful "hey stranger" texts begin. So the Kuwaiti guy was pretty much awol after his impromptu trip to Mexico aside from sending me snapchats of him smoking a joint with his new miniature husky puppy...ah if I were 20 I may have found that enduring. God I hate kids, when did I get old? Anyway I'm at my new boys apartment and my phone keeps buzzing...yeah I keep it face down and on silent :( you know how it is when you're not a good person, but in my defense I used to have gaudy bejeweled cases that sat lopsided unless face down. I check my messages and its the Kuwaiti boy who sends me a 4 page message about how he's missed me so and bought a car and would like to see me again...

After about a month of radio silence I get this out of the blue. I was puzzled and told him that his silence was an answer in itself and that, you don't simple stop talking to someone unless you want to indicate that you are no longer interested. He tells me to not be like that and that he misses his doodi a pet name for me that is no where close to my name. Without communication you have nothing and we had no communication for a month so that equals moving on. He answers in the morning and apologies again and asks how his sweetheart is doing. I don't answer, I don't have it in me to coddle and instruct. I can teach you how to be a good boyfriend but its all work for another girl in the long run. I still continue to get random snapchats of him but as long as he's not messaging me I don't care.

My current is fine aside from having numerous problems with his scholarship, and I'm trying to be sympathetic...but I really don't care. You knew the rules and you broke them so that's why this happened and like any government office getting things done takes about 500 years. Khaliji's are actually quite sensitive deep down. They have to feel they are being treated with respect or they will have a meltdown. Tone of voice is everything, and you catch more flies with honey I suppose. I did a political science assignment for him and now I regret that. I hate that, why am I so helpful. They are never grateful and will keep taking. Hearts as black as their hair. Shame on me though, when you gonna learn. Good sex will do that to a girl, and hey at least he's faithful...to my knowledge. Oh I got the new iphone 6 and it's lovely. I had to download all my apps again and I saw my ex's profile in tango under people I may know. How lovely excuse me while I kill myself. He was shirtless of course with his designer underwear peeking out of his low slung swimming trunks and baller hat. I don't recognize him anymore. When will my eyes stop looking for him. I pray I don't let myself mess things up with my current, he is calm and healthy for me. Why do I look for reckless situations? I'm afraid of happiness, it can be taken away.

summer shenanigans

I've been preoccupied this summer my goslings. Last summer dragged the days long and awful because I was heartbroken. I dropped the stoner about a month after our date over an incident about an impromptu trip to Mexico. I don't care what you do just so long as I know about it. I went to Vegas and realized I no longer have anything in common with my high school friends. Growing pains...

I've been dating someone for a few months now. He wasn't my type at all physically, being only a few inches taller then me and with a sedentary lifestyle. But God, he makes me laugh and he gets me which is rare. Were both Pisces and he was born one day before me if that's not fate. So, what he doesn't really care for designer labels or flashy cars. He treats me well and with respect and the sex is great.

I haven't really gotten into any deep conversations with him about the past and I'm going to keep it that way. He's not a child and he knows that I've been hurt and he doesn't bring it up. I feel like I can be more human around me. I don't mind so much cooking meals with him, my hair messy and without make up, in his over sized Nike shorts. I hate leaving the house without full makeup but recently I've been venturing out with minimal cosmetics.

I've been insecure lately about my physical appearance and it's difficult for me to be vulnerable around anyone. I'm okay with sitting on his cracked plastic kitchen counter blemishes and all. Dare I say it I'm in love.

where have I been?

Up to no good of course. No I have been trying to pull it together for these last few weeks of school. Most students are already free from finals and enjoying their summer. I was trying to buckle down and finish a lengthy assignment. I've been insanely restless lately and lonely. A dangerous combination I don't know if it's spring/summer fever or what. So anyway I'm browsing instagram and I keep seeing posts about this app called Meow with a cute kitty. Me being a procrastinator, I download it instantly and its some kind of friend meeting people thing. I make a profile add a few pictures then throw my phone and try to get my work done. Soon enough I hear the faithful pings of my phone, since I was about finished I look at it.

A boy starts chatting with me and we exchange pleasantries, after about 30 minutes of chatting he asks for my number and I give it to him. Soon were texting the day away and he asks to take me out that night. I hesitated because I have so such luck with anything but my boredom wins out. I agree to dinner and a movie pretty standard. I'm a little nervous because it's been forever since I've really been on a date. I take the time to shower, wash my hair, and choose an outfit. After I am heavily perfumed and chocking on bahkour I apply eyeliner. My phone pings and he's here I almost trip over my maxi dress and head out. Something I didn't like he didn't get out of the car to greet me huuuuu. Something I also was like umm about his car reeked of weed, like he literally just put a roach out. Okayyy at the late hour only a few places were still open so we just decided on Buffalo Wild Wings. We get out of the car and I almost trip over my long dress. My God he's a giant so much taller then me it's insane, I was shocked and he just grinned and pulled me under his giant arm into the restaurant. I commented on his height and he tells me that he knows and thinks its adorable how much shorter I am. He's handsome I'll give him that but I hate his True Religion shorts and orange shirt.

I realize as we make small talk we don't know each others age or names and we both laugh about it. He's 22 which makes my eye twitch and from Kuwait. I don't know anyone from Kuwait and I'm interested. He likes guns, motorcycles, and getting high. I ponder this predicament as I sip my diet coke and he asks my age. He thought I was 19 bless his heart I guess I will overlook the small transgressions. We talk about plastic surgery and random topics, he's easy to talk too. Happy in that confident stupid way young men are. We add each others instagrams and snapchats to really make it official. Back in his car he takes a detour from the theater to a deserted area. He asks about a song I like and plays it while he takes out of spliff and lights it. As I cover my hair and pray the smell doesn't seep into my clothes he takes the joint in his mouth lit end first and insists I blow the other end. I think it's insane and I he tugs my arm and tells me to just live my life. Because I don't make good decisions I inhaled and watched his cheeks glow a blood from the lit end in his mouth. I choke on the smoke for 10 minutes as he pounds my back laughing. Finally he takes the hint and rolls down the windows while I'll fidget and get paranoid about police. He pulls out a heavy cologne and sprays himself then me. "I want you to smell me later and remember me", he said happily rubbing the cologne into my hands.

I lean back into the seat and I suddenly feel a little dizzy. He pulls me closer to him and puts his arm around me, which I don't mind. It's nice to have human contact after so long. I relax and soon he traces small circles into my hip through the fabric of my dress. I don't know why but that small gesture made me melt into his arms. My whole body felt electric as he nuzzled my face and neck, to plant kisses on my shoulder. I shivered as he moved my hair back and kissed my neck, his hand a tight grip on my hip. He continued to trace patterns on my thigh and I turned my face to his, I don't remember what he said before he kissed me. He had very soft lips and it was passionate. I felt like a teenager, sneaking out to see my boyfriend. After kissing and pawing at each other we both settled down, I was a little embarrassed and he was smug. He told me how lucky he was to find me and how he can't wait until we know each other more. I kissed him hurriedly and told him goodnight. I debated on never seeing him again but I like the idea of a summer fling. Time will tell.

if I were a clever girl

Had I been a clever girl I would have blocked both my "brother" and the kid and just washed my hands of all of it. But I can't, is it the drama? The unknown? The heady excitement that keeps me coming back for more? Probably a mixture of all of the above. After that I decided to go out with the kid fueled by the betrayal of my brother. I was not innocent in this and I did not behave properly. When the kid was being boring I would accept an offer from my "brother" to go out usually to a club in the city. It was always a secret between us, none of the others in the friend group knew.

I would dress provocatively and how he liked, with heavy perfume and thick eyeliner. I would accept drink after drink and shot after shot. I would dance freely his body pressed tightly to mine with my eyes scrunched tightly shut because only than could I pretend it was my ex boyfriend touching me, kissing me. I would allow him to touch me and be near be, but I refused to sleep with him. Fueled by the blatant rejection I felt addicted to the attention of men around me. I became a chameleon at hiding my true feelings, I told jokes and was charming. I pouted my lips and made sure to keep my eyes ever wide and surprised, innocent. I became too good at this act, being the bubbly life of the party.

It's not me at all, I'm quiet and brooding deep down almost sullen. It was an exhausting charade and I began to resent those around me for not seeing through it. The only one who knew I was a fraud was one of the M&M cousins. He was a drunk and if he drank enough and I leaned over to talk to him he would close his eyes and breath in my scent. He told me that he liked me but he didn't trust me which made me adore him, I wouldn't trust me either. If I got drunk enough I would break down crying leaving a mess of black tracks down my cheeks. My "brother" accustomed to this would hold me and kiss me until I stopped. He would chide me in his heavy broken English, "why you always cry baby, waste of make up" as he wiped my tears. I would be selfish with the kid and him, I was rude, I acted bored. I was constantly on my phone messaging people I didn't care about. I didn't see the warning signs.

The first time I slept with the kid was a nightmarish drunken fumble in the back of his BMW SUV. We were both drunk and I saw my ex boyfriends clique in the club. I could barely hold back the tears, and instead the I pushed the kid to the dance floor so I could shut my eyes and block it all out. I wanted to make sure it looked like I was so happy and carefree. The flash of strokes and mirrored walls was a comfort to me. I would watch myself dance like watching a stranger. The kid taller than me loved to dance together, his hands would hold me against his body. If he were drunk enough he would paw at my clothes and try to slip his hands under my shirt or dress. I would shove them away and he would grab one and force it under his shirt. I felt the tip of his strained erection he concealed by tucking his penis by the button of his jeans.

My boldness always wore off at that point and I tried to slow things down. I wanted to leave but was not ready to go home I suggested an after hour Italian cafe that was popular to try and sober up. At the table he couldn't keep his hands off me. I became embarrassed by the stares and whispers, I tried to order quickly and hid behind my menu. As we kissed his hand keep creeping towards my breast, I would quickly grab it and tell him to stop. He would pull away sheepishly and give me that baby face smile and apologize. He would shower me in praise and compliments and say he can't help but admire. As I wolfed down my pasta, he tried to order a drink but it was long after last call. He too noticed our audience and we booked it out of there.

In his car he turned on a playlist of popular R&B songs. We started kissing again and lost track of ourselves and time. He played with the button on my pants and asked against my lips if we could go to my house. I thought it over and hesitated, I need some air I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. I got out of the car to lean against it, we had driven to a deserted area of the downtown. There wasn't a soul in sight, he joined me outside the car to light a cigarette. I felt very drunk suddenly as I took a drag and he leaned against me. His kisses were gentle but his actions were more determined. He steered me backwards and opened the door to the backseat and gentle pushed me to lay down.

I had become cold in my thin top and welcomed his warm weight over me. We kissed with passion and I heard the tickling of his belt buckle being loosened and I didn't stop him, as he pulled my fitted trousers off. I thought for sure he could never hurt me, I wouldn't allow myself to be stupid again and this was just about getting over my ex. God help me I had closed my eyes and drifted off when while we kissed and when he pushed inside me, I moaned the wrong name. I called him by my ex boyfriends name now granted they are similar. But it is a grave mistake and he softened inside me immediately, neither one of us moved. I was thankful my face was buried in his neck to hide my shame and extreme humiliation. He put is head on my chest as I choked out apology after apology in tears. We pulled our pants back on but otherwise made no move and he did the strangest thing. I was expecting anger and harsh words, he told me he loved me head still on my chest and I did the only thing I thought would fix it, I said I loved him too.

cowardly

Long after things had settled I avoided the group after the incident with my "brother". It was something we never brought up. When I arrived back home after the fiasco nursing my hangover with Taco Bell and a hot shower I got a SMS from him, "weenk :(" it read. Maybe if I had chosen him over the kid things would have been very different. I would never have been thrust into the nightmarish situation where I was forced to compromise my morals.

Looking back its always easier to see things you had missed. I knew he just wanted to sleep with me hell they all did. Despite his constant declarations of love I never quite felt it. Had he really loved me he would have made much more of an effort while he was here. He gifted me with presents from emeralds to oud but would only call me at night. Had he made the effort to see me during the day it would have made a world of difference.

We talk almost daily now that he is back in Saudi Arabia and we argued about the past. I had missed him I'll admit but I never let myself fall for him. He said he had wanted me and I had ruined it with my behavior. God forbid a women be open and comfortable in her sexuality. Recently I confided in one of the cousins I had admired and he judged me harshly going as far as to say I deserved this fate. I felt sick to my stomach at his hypocrisy, he placed all the blame on me. And then said he and his friends were respectful to me. I burned with anger, if they thought I was nothing but a bitch to them they should have said so. I told him I didn't want to talk to him anymore. He ended the conversation with, "what did you expect me to say?" and reminded me that I will be judged for this. I blocked and everyone from their circle from my life.

For now my "brother" and I continue to talk and snapchat, but I wouldn't be surprised if they suddenly stopped one day and he no longer answered me. The truth is often painful and its worse when the people you thought cared about you, really don't. I know if I told him everything he would block me after an angry tirade. I wouldn't blame him, though I care about him, he was never for me. The only thing that brings tears to my eyes is being judged by the people I cared about.

the things I never told you part 2

I followed you out of the bathroom to the living room where a few friends had arrived. "Eid mubarak" purred a visibly drunk underage friend, I murmured a rushed "happy Eid" as my glass was topped off. Music videos on loop blared from one television in the smokey apartment and the boys played a game counsel on the other television. I think it was about soccer their passion.

My brother took a seat next to me on the couch, my mood was better then it had been in a while. A few drinks in I was cozy and my brother slide closer to me. He played with one of my hands and smoothed his thumb over the ring he had given me. I adverted my gaze to the random rap music video playing. He asked if I still talked to the kid and I admitted that I did. He was silent for a moment and lit a cigarette. I sighed and fanned the smoke with my hand.

Fast forward to half an hour later and I was drunk. I was feeling talkative and optimistic and I chattered on about things that don't matter. My brother became momentarily serious. He leaned closer to whisper softly in my ear, "tell me his name". I asked who and he pressed on to know who my ex boyfriend was and he'd been asking for months. Who was the one who broke me. I sighed, I don't know why he kept asking and I don't know why I bothered to protect him. I took his curls in my hand and pulled him closer to me to whisper the name. It felt like uttering a sin as the foreign words fell off my tongue, like stones into a pond. He sunk back into the couch satisfied. "I know this family my cousin married into it" he pondered aloud studying his cigarette. He took my hand again and told me to forget it and pulled me up to gather my coat and purse.

At the bar he pushed drink after drink into my hand. I had wanted to meet the kid once and for all to confess everything and be done with it. My brother knew this and I think that's why he made sure I was drunk. I thought I had seen the kid and tried to follow him, I was pulled back to the table by my brother. "Weenk ya bint" he shouted over the music his hand on my arm. I tried to tell him I think I saw the kid but he grabbed my faced and kissed me.

He was unusually aggressive and my attempts to pull away were thwarted. I was finally able to turn my head away from him only to be grabbed again. "Who am I?" he demanded and I said his name, as he kissed me over and over. I told him he was being too much and he admitted with a smirk that his ex girlfriend warned him he was dangerous. He asked me to say his name again and I asked why desperately as I pushed at him. Mutual friends hooted and applauded us to my shame, they commented that we were nice together. I hid my face in his coat and pressed my drink to my swollen lips.

My phone kept buzzing with notifications but every time I would try to read the message my "brother" would grab my phone. I read the blurry screen and was able to make out the SMS sent from the kid "I see you, wearing pink". I fled the bar to get some air because I felt like I couldn't breathe, outside sitting on a bench was the kid. I couldn't believe it, I tottered over to him trying to smooth out my wild hair. I nervously said hello and he stood up, he was tall. He surprised me when he hugged me and I almost fell since both of us were drunk.

I heard heated shouting in Arabic and I saw my now incestuous brother standing next to the kids friend a few feet away. They were arguing and shooting glances at us, my brother snapped at the kid in Arabic and grabbed my arm dragging me into the next bar. I looked over my shoulder frantically but everything was blurry, my eyes began to tear at this point. I asked my brother why he did that as he tried to wipe at my tears. I swatted his hand and tried to leave but he pulled me to him and held me.

My humiliation and frustration boiled over at this point. I knew I had been caught and by the angry buzzing of my phone I knew the kid had been told everything. I messily typed a hurried apology to the kid begging for his forgiveness and that he forget me. My brother took my phone from my shaking hands. His friend passes by and turns to me "even when you crying, you fucking beautiful".
I started laughing hysterically and almost fell over again, had my brother not been holding on to me.

 I recall being pulled to the car and pushed into the backseat. I was tearful again and on the verge on crying as I grabbed fistfuls of my own hair in frustration. I longed for the heavy lull of the pain killers my ex boyfriend had given me taste for. I regretted flushing the remaining tablets I'd found, after a failed half ass attempt at suicide months prior. My brother grabbed my hands and pinned me to the seat to prevent me from clawing at my face and was kissing me again. He sighed my name over and over as he pawed at my clothes and I tried to hit him.

The car door opened on the driver side and the least drunk out of all of us was the underage one. He catcalled at us at his friend pulled a girl from Tunisia, onto his lap and I drunkenly noticed she tried to keep his hands from delving under her clothes. I begged the driver to just drop me off at my house as it was not as far as the apartment complex they lived in. My brother made a tsk sound next to me and started talking fast in Arabic to the driver.

At the apartment we all staggered around to music while preparing snacks and switching to water. I realized and was unsettled by the fact that my brother wasn't even very drunk. He heated up charcoal for the shisha. I could barely keep my eyes open at this point and my brother told me to go sleep. I went to his room to sleep, like I had many times before but I was surprised he followed me. He usually stayed with friends for a few more hours smoking and playing video games or cards. I flopped down on the side I usually sleep and he spooned next to me. We kissed again and it wasn't until he tried to slide my cardigan off did I stop him.

He was talking a lot and I was so tired. I allowed him to grind against me as I pressed sleepy kisses to his pale face and black beard. He grabbed my arms and rolled on top of me, even with both our clothes on it felt invasive, I could feel his desire. I squirmed under him and told him to get off to let me sleep. I avoided his kisses and blocked his movements with my knees. He asked me to say his name and refused to answer my questions of why until I did. "I want to make sure you know who you are with" he stated simply, as if I could forget.

I scoffed at him until he tightened his grip on my wrist and asked how many men I'd been with. He guessed random numbers aloud 50, 60 guys? He was jealous and trying to wound me. I cried out in humiliation and shame at his outrageous claim. I'm not a prude nor a professional. I tried to slap his face and succeeded in grazing his cheek before he caught my hand. "I don't have sex with just anyone" I hissed. His answer was to latch onto my throat and suck deeply while I moaned a protest. He admired his handy work with his tongue as I gasped. I love and hate hickeys and under better circumstances that would have been sexy. I felt like cattle being branded and he had to hold my face still in order to kiss me again.

I woke up fully clothed in his bed with him cuddled next to me in the morning, his face in my hair and his arms around me possessively. I felt awful and nauseous choked by the cloying smell and combination of my perfume and his cologne, what deja vu. I hurriedly grabbed my stuff booked it out of the apartment still wobbly from the drink. The air was warm and bright outside, I caught site of myself in the lobby mirrors and paused. My hair was a wild tangled mess, my eyeliner long ruined and making me resemble a raccon, and my strappy heels were hanging off my feet. I could see glaring magenta bruises on my throat which I tried to cover with my tangled hair. I bit my lip as I dropped my eyes.

I hated what I saw. Little did I know that was only the beginning. Karma would come back around. The kid finished off what my ex boyfriend started and killed the last of innocence.

monster how should I feel

I had a nightmare about you again last night. Maybe it's because when my replacement phone arrived I had to plug the device into my laptop to transfer my contacts. I guess I had been lazy with updating my phone and it saved everything from Thanksgiving from almost two years now. All the pictures and old conversations between us that I've been trying to block out. Good thing I was finished with classes for the day I ended up in the shower for 45 minutes brooding after that. I'm making progress I didn't breakdown sobbing. I'm not going to lie, it hurt to see your updated profile photo on whatsapp. You standing at sports game with your back to the arena, unsmiling and serious as always. You were showing off the jersey you were wearing, thumbs hooked in the sleeves. You look a little bit older, you look a little colder baby. It still hurts to see your face.

Because it will be my birthday soon I think I am nostalgic. Last year you took me to a fancy steak dinner in the city followed by drinks at a club. I had bought a new dress and shoes for the occasion. You had gotten me perfume and a watch. To this day I cannot bring myself to purchase the brand of fragrance again. I hope the smell haunts you too. In my dream you had contacted me to wish me happy birthday and begged to see me. I agreed because I cannot stop loving you and I hoped seeing you would help me to get over you. The details are fuzzy but you began drinking, your cousins were also there. We slept together and it was rough and terrible I regretted it. I began to realize it was a blessing that you left me. I lost you for a period of time and than found you drunk and on top of another girl. She was hideous and sloppy, I burned with humiliation. I dragged you off of her to hit and slap your face. You ran away or I ran I'm not sure. I was awoken by thunder and a horrid beeping alert on my phone about a flood warning. The time was 3:45am and I felt exhausted and sad.

My mood for the rest of the day has been heavy. Why do we romanticize people who hurt us?