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?

your name is on my lips tonight

I am very tired as I write in the darkness of my bedroom. The light of my laptop illuminates my own face so that it's ghostly, washed out. A memory is replaying over and over. Do you remember, my dearest, when I would trace my fingers down your taut body? So smooth and soft for a man. I once compared your beauty to the naked statue of David. How I used to bury my face in the sheer scent of your body, no area taboo. Sometimes when you were sleeping I would bring my face very close to yours, so that I could inhale every breath you exhaled. How sweet the air was after having been in your mouth. And how greedy I was. I would take your lips in between my teeth and worry them. On more than one occasion we had fallen asleep, pressing gentle kisses to each others mouths. How our hands would find each others and clasp in sleep. How this love sprang between us from such dysfunction I don't know.

I still remember the softness and fullness of your lips. The first time you took me, I would say the first time we made love. But there was none at that time. Do you remember that night, after the movie and the long drive to your home? It was an Indian summer. The night was still hot as day leaving everyone restless. I approached your car for our first date, you asked me to stop and looked at me from an arms length distance. 

We sized each other up approvingly. I took in your fitted chinos, gray Toms, a sky blue v-neck tee shirt that showed off toned arms and a simple leather bracelet. After a hug, you held me away from you and looked pleased. I took in the scent of your subtle cologne. I didn't realize how tall you were, I barely came up to your chest in my ballet flats. When I sat in your car you clicked on the overhead light your face eagerly searching mine. We had never officially met, yet talked for hours on end daily for months. You told me I looked better in person than in my photos. I know this about myself. I don't photograph all too well. You, on the other hand, looked exactly as I had seen. My friends later, perhaps trying to console me, would say that you were not handsome. Your just nose too prominent and eyes were deep set. I thought you perfection personified. 

We caught a late movie and settled comfortably into the seats of the theater between my nervous munching of popcorn. I became thirsty and told you I was gonna steal sips of your coke which made you smirk. You were quiet and watched me more than the movie. I noticed out of the corner of my eye. We made no move to touch each other but shifted in our seats crossing and uncrossing our legs. We joked back in the car and the conversation flowed easily between us I could tell you felt comfortable. I trusted you instantly and felt that I had known you for years. You admitted you didn't want the night to end yet and asked if you could steal me. I said yes and you took my hand in yours I noted the different in size as you shifted gears, yours easily swallowed mine. 

You made a hookah for us at your home. I watched with interest as your elegant fingers squished the wood out of the shisha. I had loved your hands; the size and strength of them, how gentle and cruel they could be. I even loved the one visible flaw of your person, your clubbed thumb on your right hand which you hated. We flirted with each other a little in between billowing plumes of apple scented smoke. After the charcoals had burned out we settled into a lull barely watching a movie on television. Your cousins bustled around us upstairs speaking Arabic in hushed tones. They were still unpacking from their trip back home and stole curious glances at us. Later you told me they joked with you, asking you to make sure I was eighteen. I suppose I look younger than I am but still not that young. You stood up suggested I help you finish arranging your bedroom/ I thought nothing of it as it seemed you had just moved in and followed. Your room was off to the side of the living room and the only one on the first level, complete with its own private bathroom. I helped you stuff the duvet into a new cover of light gray cotton, a favorite of yours. You asked me for suggestions on where to hang several pictures as I lazily sunk into the bed we just made. Your room was clean and organized for a boy, cologne bottles spread about your dark colored dresser amid school books and towels neatly folded in the corner shelf. You had burned oud I could tell and wondered if you planned this.

By now the time was nearing 4 am and I was tired. You shot down all my suggestions for decorating and took a space next to me on your bed. I turned slowly towards you to say something idly, my mouth open when suddenly you grabbed my face and tried to kiss me. I was taken by surprise and protested while you retreated back to your side but traced my lips with your fingers. I watched you, mesmerized as you explored the outline of my lips softly, then touched them to your own mouth. Your pink tongue darting out for a quick lick and than with the same fingers pressed them to my mouth insistingly like a kiss. I had never seen or felt anything like that and I said nothing. I was still trying to figure out what happened. Than you were on top of me roughly kissing me, your hands holding my face still as I tried to move away. I tried turning my face trapped by your hands with a cry, as you licked and bit my cheek. This sudden aggression caught me by surprise. The mood had been very light and calm the whole date. I voiced my concern and my reasoning for rejecting your advances. How much I valued our friendship carefully built over a 6 month period. I knew in my heart there was no way this could end well for either of us. I knew you were not yet twenty despite your height and maturity, you still had a few more weeks and I was twenty three at the time. We had promised to be friends and never to complicate our friendship over the summer.

Your kisses were too rough too demanding, heavy with teeth and tongue . I tried to kissing you back gently but passionately. I thought if I could show you how much I loved you with a soft kiss you would understand. Looking back I think you took my kiss as permission and acceptance. I knew there was chemistry between us but I was confused. You began to wrestle my long, thin kimono sweater off. Despite my soft "no" flung it aside leaving me in my tank top. I told you again to stop and you became annoyed. You pressed angry kisses down my throat and to my breasts, nuzzling and nipping at any exposed skin. Your hands became rough and dragged themselves down my body to my jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper. At this point I began to fight you, I was relieved when you stopped and rolled off me frustrated. 

I wanted to see you happy with me so badly. I had fallen in love with you even before even meeting you, and I was torn by this situation. Surely this was not the love I had imagined, the one who had comforted me and been kind to me these past months. I knew you had a temper and were jealous. You had warned that you had a dark side and I stubbornly refused to hear it. You got up from the bed and proceeded to change into sleeping clothes while I adverted my eyes. Your movements were fast and jerky as you slammed dresser drawers. Now dressed in the soft white cotton shirt worn under the thob called a drosh and boxers, you moved towards the door. I thought for sure you would leave. To my surprise, you switched off the main light. I heard the lock of the door click. The room was completely dark until you switched on a dim lamp beside your bed.

I had my back to you when you grabbed me and pressed your body to mine, again biting and nosing my neck. You wrapped your arms around me slipping them under my top hungry to feel warm skin. You made a disproving noise as you felt my belly ring. You were angry, I could tell by how your voice rose a pitch and were telling me how I was ruining this moment and how you dreamed of this. We argued in between brutal kisses that you forced upon me, as I tried to make you see that sleeping together will be the end of us. I would lose him at one point or another and I knew it. As I was lost in my thoughts of how I could get out of this, you rolled back on top of me with a renowned vigor. I saw you had stripped off your shirt at this point. For a second I couldn't help but reach out a hand to marvel at the perfect chest and abs posed above me like a Greek statue toned and sculpted. You were accustomed to girls reaction to your body I could tell, and took my hands unwitting exploration and soft exclamation of "oh" as desire. I felt my jeans being slid off despite their tightness and still being buttoned. I pushed at the very chest I had just been admiring. You shushed my protests all the while taking one of my hands and pressing them to your boxers, "you feel me baby" you breathed and I became afraid at this point. You exhaled loudly and worked my unwilling hand against your sex as I tried in vain to pull away. I could feel all of your male anatomy through the thin strained fabric. When you shoved your boxers off impeded slightly by your heavy bobbing erection, and threw my jeans off the bed was when I found my voice and begged you to stop. The sight of your naked body made me panic, and though I was no virgin, I was terrified as you mashed our bodies together separated only by my tank top and underwear. Pinned by your weight I could not move or dislodge you and my movements seemed to provoke you further. Greedy hands mapped out my skin as you stripped my tank top over my head my protests still falling on deaf ears. I regretted not wearing a bra that day and I tried to shield myself from you, as you pried my hands away to cup my breasts and kiss them. You tried consoling my pleading with demanding kisses and a promise of "just over the underwear baby just wanna feel you" your voice thick with desire as you ground your hips against me. Your sex a frightening reminder heavy against my thigh, your weight crushing. Your hands and mouth moving over my body and everything was happening too fast.

Your sharp hip bones were painful against mine as you made slow shallow thrusts, I must have been whimpering because you demanded I stop "making these sad noises" with a sharp slap to my thigh. I flinched and jerk away from you terrified because the only thing separating us was my underwear. My sudden movement made it easier for you to part my legs with one thigh though I tried to vain to close them. You cupped my face with one hand and used the other to drag my panties off as I tried kicking and thrashing. I became desperate and your movements seemed frenzied. Through my panic and attempt at stopping you, you kissed me trying to silence my cries "shh we gonna be together now" was all I heard against my lips. You sealed you mouth over mine trying to muffle my screams as positioned yourself above me. You let out a low hissing breath at the contact of our naked bodies and humped against me your weeping erecting leaving me wet much to my shame. I remember I sobbed into your mouth as you took me roughly exploring me with first your fingers and than your sex. The intense dark look on your face with each thrust as you bit your lip, my hands as they tried hitting and scratching you. You were just so much bigger than me, everything about you was too big, too much. You had about 70 pounds on by slight frame, and could take both my wrists in one hand, which you did when I tried to block your hips from bucking against me. I told you to stop and that you were hurting me, I tried again to scream but it all came out in chocked gasps. "Almost baby almost " you said silkily while setting a brutal pace, hands at my shoulders pinning me under you and jerking my body to meet your thrusts. I felt like a rag doll under your bruising grip and I cried out in pain. 

As you finished violently on me I was in shock. You let go of my arms only to rub your essence into the soft skin of my stomach in slow circles directly and deliberately. You were studying my crumbling expression with a tight mouth, I couldn't read the look on your face. I remember shaking afterwards and watching you pull on your discarded boxers and shirt, movements now slower more unsure. I don't know why but I let you pull me to you and hold me despite my flinching. I found my trembling hands balled in the fabric of your shirt my head buried in your shoulder trying not to cry as you pet my hair softly. I had never been afraid of man before, I didn't want to start now and I never thought I would be violated like this. I didn't resist as you kissed me now gently and asked if I was okay. I couldn't find my voice and as brought a bottle of water to my lips insisting I drink, your eyes on me the whole time as you took heavy gulps.  I tried to turn away from you but you wouldn't let me go and I didn't have any fight left in me as you lifted me like a child on top of your chest to sleep, arms tight around me, face buried in my hair. In the light of day I asked you why you did that, why was it like this? I desperately needed to understand what had happened for my own sake. Your beautiful dark hooded eyes dropped from mine; I could see the feint purple smudges under them that were always there. A reminder of an unseen torment you lived with, "I didn't know you were little like this...you look tall in pictures..." you said softly. You looked me in my face and to this day I can't get these words out of my head or the expression in your eyes. You stated in the soft dangerous tone you would use, "I just wanted to own you".

white heart

The other day I unwisely choose to have dinner with Abdul who desperately wanted to see me after the fight he thinks we had. I declined several times until he badgered me enough and I should have went with my better instinct. The dinner itself was okay he choose a new Arabic place that opened downtown. I ordered chicken tawook mmm one of my favorites and garlic potatoes. As I drank my tea which didn't have mint, I took note of the ambiance. I like dimly lit places and after ordering we exchanged pleasantry's. The who's who, the whats what. The girl he flew from Denver to take to a nearby Island which I told him about in the first place.

He showed me pictures of the girls he's talking to, I nod and murmur occasionally so he thinks I'm paying attention. He will graduate in May due to the amount of units he's taking outside of his school with online classes, he wanted me to do one for him of course. He tried kissing me and I shoved him off tiredly. I don't find him attractive at all but the experiences alone are noteworthy. I try not to laugh as he calls a girl and after a lengthy breathy conversation in Arabic he hangs up. I can't make this stuff up he than turns to me sadly and says he met this girl while she was on vacation here, but since he went back home he feels she is talking to other guys. Note what he himself is doing. And wait for the kicker, he states that "no girl deserves his white heart, because he is really clean in his intentions".

What is so wrong with being the bad guy? I'm not a good girl and I admit it openly. But this delusion is something else. Which I'm still in awe of white heart my ass. God help whatever poor girl gets stuck with him. This valentine's day I spent a quiet night in my new room arranging shelves and opening boxes. My mom got me cupcakes with hearts on them. I was invited to a few dinners which I declined. I made it very clear that I am done with all of this. Now the sulking and passage aggressive whatsapp messages will begin but so be it. I don't want any of you and I never will again. I told Abdul this as I tried to make my dramatic exit from his car but he grabbed my arm and cryptically told me " you gonna die with Arabs, its in your soul". Ya kalb.

just the selfish

Just take a guess goslings who it is. I've been mulling this over all day fueled by caffeine and hormonal rage. The definition of selfish is: adjective or a describing word, " (of a person, action, or motive) lacking consideration for others; concerned chiefly with one's own personal profit or pleasure. I used to refer to a quote I read in high school that fit my ex boyfriend perfectly, and no not the kid God damn his eyes. The Adonis who forever damaged my ability to fully open up and trust people. I used to tell him in our final moments "because you're not the fake type, just the selfish". I don't know which is worse to be fake or selfish anymore.

If I have to revise one more email for a professor or an adviser I will scream. I really could care less if anyone graduates; the only direct benefit is they would leave my beautiful country and could no longer bask in all the sweet freedom it offers. I never ask for help from anyone aside from my family, its a simple matter of pride. Congratulations on taking twenty three units per semester by applying for countless community colleges and paying people to do them online for you. I'm sure when you hold your degree in your hands you will be so proud. I've become disgusted at all the displays of selfishness and a general lack of honesty.

Yeah your culture forces you to have many faces and persona's and I'm sure you cry over the sheer pressure of it all at night (sarcasm). But just because I understand doesn't mean I have to be apart of it. I used to adore Khaleeji people, and I felt a connection to what I thought they stood for. Like anything else you get too close too you end up seeing the many flaws. I got in too deep and its my own fault I know that. The things that happened to me are from the choices I made and the people I choose to trust.

Before I had it set in my mind to work abroad and be an expat. I couldn't wait to finish my school and use my knowledge of Arabic to help me in my work. But now I want nothing to do with it at all and it makes me sad. I felt drawn to this culture it spoke to something deep inside me. I have an emptiness inside of me I fear will never be filled. 

the things I never told you

I file these things under memories that keep me awake at night and my poor choice of people I placed my trust in.  Take my Arabic brother I mentioned, at first it was a joke within the group everyone knew we were friendly and called him my slave. I knew he liked me how much I was never sure, I looked at all of them as my brothers. He was one of the main instigators when it came to the game with the kid. When drunk he would ask me about who I talked to and admit he hated them all. The term for a girl player in Saudi slang is "lizard" I forget the word in Arabic. My brother is from a city neighboring Bahrain and would often sneak out to drink and stay in his secret apartment. As the only boy he had responsibilities and was glad to study in the US for bit. He was in his late twenties and and perusing his masters.

I liked him and I miss the dynamic of the group, before things got awkward and out of hand. Things took a turn for the worse when the 2 ring leaders cousins whom I adore went back for Ramadan. I didn't realize they were the ones who kept everyone in line and made sure no boundaries were crossed. With the cousins M & M around I felt safe to drink and even I had one too many they would carry me out and feed me and put me to bed. I often slept in my brothers bed a mess of smudged eyeliner and heavy perfume. He would stay awake with his friends for a couple more hours and when I woke he was next to me. He hated the kid and I think he knew that it was deeper then games and loneliness. I arranged to meet the kid of Eid and confess everything but my brother got in the way of it.

That evening I had brought desserts for the boys and headed over. There was already a giant bottle of gray goose on the table and the television was blasting Wiz Khalifa. I found my brother perched on the tub a joint in his mouth. He greeted me with a customary hala wallah 8abi and pushed a drink into my hands. I'll finish later but I'm sure one can tell it won't end well.

a declaration of hate

Well good people,

I've been a little preoccupied lately with packing and work. I was gonna wait until after my showdown with the kid to post but it likely will not be happening. We exchanged some choice words a week ago and haven't spoken since. He just keeps repeating he loves me and he's sorry in between the days and weeks of silence. How redundant please go and end your life or save it for someone who cares. Were supposed to set up a meeting but since I'm not being nice to him as he put it, we've settled on a declaration of hate. Everyone is back in the US and school has stated already, cue the pings and messages. If I get one more phone call with a +974 county code when I'm sleeping peacefully so help me. If you are married, and get different numbers to text your girls about missing them and then proceed to send pictures of your toddler with a winky face; also please kill yourself.

As soon as I get my school all squared away I'll be free to change my number. This time next month I'll be nestled in my new room in a new area. I'll be attending my new school and meet attractive American boys who are mentally stable. Ahh to dream. I've already bought a few maxi dresses and clothes for school. I'll wander lost through a foreign mountain top campus, flushed from the heat and a lovely well mannered young man will come to my rescue...not actually maybe I'll grow a pair and save myself.

keefk baby

Because my little goslings I am pathetic and needy I changed my whatsapp profile pic to a somewhat sultry picture of myself with pouty lips and heavy eyeliner. This is what I've been reduced to, when I'm bored I like to temporary put a picture that is sexy and then go to sleep. And like magic when I awake my phone is filled with messages. After a week long silence from the kid he sent me my favorite traditional Saudi male kharoof greeting of "keefk baby". He was just letting me know he was going to Dubai for 3 days with his brother, how wonderful I'll be sure to stop the press and alert everyone. That warranted no response but to change avatars in all apps to some melancholy quote about pain or loss so they know you saw it but are ignoring them. The subtle art of ignoring, why can't we just grow up.

My poor mother has been having a rough time with her boss so my sister and I sent her flowers from her favorite florist to her work. This year isn't off to an awful start but I feel like I have to start doing things differently if I want to change. It's hard without having closure but I'm trying to just let it go. I have how social networks keep you constantly updated unless you decide to delete and block which is so much effort. I don't want to delete my accounts but I don't want to see your face anymore. Dilemmas...

say something

My last post sounded so I dunno...dare I say unstable. I don't like to think of myself that way because I'm far too vain and concerned with myself but lately I've been doubtful. Today was wasted at the DMV while I was trying to get some paperwork processed, which took forever despite my appointment. I'm trying to return to normalcy and I think acceptance is setting in. Sometimes at night I feel anger or sadness creep over me but for the most part I try to shove it aside during the day. I prefer to grieve alone and in silence or lost in music. Has anyone listened to the song "Say Something" by A Great Big World ft Christina Aguilera? Oh its a doozy you'll be sobbing in no time.

I stopped contacting the kid at all because it was making me more and more upset and I just don't want to hear bullshit. I don't care that you couldn't have fun at your cousins wedding or you didn't go to Bahrain with your friends because you can't sleep at night. Good, I hope this eats at you till the day you die. I'm dreading the meeting we'll have to have next week to talk about this. I just want to shove all the things he gave me in a bag and hand it over, let him know that I curse his name and he is not forgiven.

Some mutual friends from Saudi Arabia, who stayed in the US for the winter break tried contacting me and I feel bad but I just cannot stand anyone from those places anymore. It's bad enough trying to be civil let alone sit through a coffee session. I just can't anymore. Another friend of mine who left in May is returning with his wife who's pregnant. Jesus, I remember him on top of that French girl for the duration that I knew him. How awkward.

I guess that's how we all cope. Shove it under the rug. Share a wink or two with friends. Pretend it never happened and everything is good. I'm happy to start packing, I never thought I'd want to move away from the city or the ocean. I can be someone else in a place where no one knows me.

all want something

Against my better judgement as usual I forced myself to go out on New Years Eve with friends. They have no idea what happened or my sudden absence while I feigned illness. Well I was/am sick but not so much physically as mentally and emotionally. I tried to put on a happy face and go shopping with friends for a dress for the occasion but my heart really wasn't in it. For the first time ever I didn't care if I wore a dress that wasn't new. No matter how I style my hair or apply makeup I feel hideous. The guilt I harbor is suffocating and it's difficult to keep up appearances. As I tried to put on my false eyelashes for the hundredth time with shaking hands I heard my phone ping.

I just hate hate hate with the passion of a hundred burning suns fighting while texting. I had given up at this point because I felt too exhausted to deal with the kid anymore. Just the sight of his name popping up on my phone makes my heart sink. I'm sure it's mutual despite his protests and declarations of love. I haven't come to terms with what happened and how we dealt with it. He begs for forgiveness and for me not to hate him. I'm biding my time until I can see him once he's back in the US so I can slap his face and pray he dies in a fire. I have never in my life hated anyone like I do him. The fact that he will be breathing in the sweet freedom of the United States and cheating his way through school makes my blood boil. I told him to just stay there in his country where he belongs. Wild animals should be kept in cages.

I cannot stand his instagram updates of soccer teams and friends and moody looks and cryptic captions. I deleted all my pictures, I couldn't stand to see my own face let alone how it was before all of this. How can I face myself day to day? How do you live with this? My body is returning to normal and I'm trying hard to be kind to myself. I'm trying to bring myself to write about what happened but it's a very sensitive subject and I don't feel up to a debate or a lecture on morals. I've found myself skipping meals. I feel that I don't deserve this nourishment for my body. What is the point. In desperation I took a razor blade to my wrist not in an attempt for suicide but just to punish myself. I cut three rows of fine thin lines that have since scabbed over. My heavy watch and bangles hides any evidence of my pain and anguish. 

Oh yeah New Years Eve in a nutshell. My behavior has become increasingly reckless as of late and on a whim I took Molly while on the way to a nightclub. Really I don't see what all the fuss is about it's highly overrated and you're still very much in control of your actions and surroundings. I was inpatient for the drug to kick in so I took a vodka redbull. As I leaned against the wall and watched my friends laughing and screaming during the countdown I felt a deep sadness. The confetti rained down on all of us and couples began to kiss passionately. I wished for death. I managed a smile and hugs for my friends. I flinched when anyone touched me. I worried for my friend who I hadn't seen since the countdown, she wasn't answering my messages or calls. My other friend came up to me his pupils dilated and shouted in my ear over the music that someone had slipped her a roofie and she was taken home by our other friend. I saw the guy who bought her a drink and I felt so angry. The audacity of men. Their disgusting selfish nature. I hunted all of their party down and watched with satisfaction as security dragged them out of the restrooms and searched their pockets. The blonde one had taunted me earlier when I tried to confront him and I got a "it's New Years baby, the girls just wanna have fun and the guys defiantly do" with a wink. I blew him a kiss as they dragged him out he couldn't believe it. I didn't really feel better.