We rolled over again. I never really cared whenever you were cutting off my air supply.
You stared at me for a full minute, although it felt like forever.
You observed me from underneath you and smiled.
With your hands on my face, you made a gesture with your left, with what felt like an act of rubbing something off of my face.
"What is it?", I asked.
"Nothing", you laughed.
It didn't take long before I realized, you thought the mole on my face was dirt, and you were trying to take it off.
It didn't take long before I felt the pride surging in you for having discovered yet another thing about me during our quiet moments.
I can tell, because I tasted it on your lips.
"Out of sight, out of mind, it doesn't mean you're not mine"
I was sitting on one of the cemented walls, hair and make-up done, ready for a party we were supposed to go to. You were in our friend's car, in the passenger's seat, taking control of the music.
In the middle of the conversation I was having with our friends, you interrupted by practically screaming to everyone within 15 meter Radius.
"Have you guys heard my Girlfriend sing?", you asked.
We all kept silent. I was puzzled, wondering what the heck you were talking about.
You plugged the jack on your Blackberry, and pressed Play.
I didn't know if I wanted to melt, or vanish, or fly - which emotion to go with first, I wasn't sure. All at the same time perhaps.
And then you smiled at me, you smiled at me while the rest of the World listened to my Voice blasting out of our friend's Speakers, singing "Dreaming of You" in acapella.
My Mind Imprisons Memories
Yes, you read that right : IMPRISONS. Because keeping them is another story.
You know how normally, most people use their brains for all these awesome things, like art, music... well, mine is made up of rooms. Hundreds of thousands of rooms, and in each room, is a memory.
Do you know how you have all these beautiful memories in your head, such beautiful memories that made you so sure that they were what you lived for. I feel that these memories have been struggling to be set free. Fly to Neverneverland, or swim to Oblivion. Gone from sight.
Some memories I choose to be left without a lock. Some of them freely slip away from my mind. Some I haunt to remember, some I choose to forget. But some, some I have kept under "tight security", behind a vault-like door. Those are the ones I visit frequently. I try my best not to tarnish every single detail of these memories. The way you brush my hair off my face, the way you say my name, these things.
People tell me, "Move to another place, Abbie. You'll be happier there". But that's not the point, really. They don't see the point. Its not where I am, its who I want to be with that kills me.
Why am I not like you? Why can't I just look at the bright side? Instead I look back at the days we spent together, forgetting the world that existed outside the confines of the room we're in?
I wish I was like you, the way you chose to forget, the way you chose to move on, the way you blatantly ... decided. I don't even know what your decision is. Heck, I don't even know if you decided at all, actually. You're playing it so well.
And yet, this stupid spark of hope is still ignited in me. Like a magic flame, hoping, wishing, hoping some more, wishing harder.
I don't know.
I just love you.
And even if you take away these memories from my head, well, as cheesy as this is... the heart, the heart will never forget. Memories can be erased, but a feeling, a feeling can never be taken away from you.
Six Days Vs. The Universe
(originally written on the 21st of June)
“This trip is going to change my life, I just know it.” was the thought that ran through my head every morning from the moment I booked my flight.
It was my first time traveling with friends. It was my first time traveling for fun. It was my first time traveling, period. I did not know what to expect but deep down, I felt it. The changing winds. You know, like when Pocahontas was lead to John Smith for the first time?
But it wasn’t a Disney moment. I needed an escape. A temporary pause from the chaos going on in my life. I’ve been feeling alone in the company of friends, family, loved ones – that I needed to actually BE alone somehow, in another country, to make it feel less complicated. And then it occurred to me that I wasn’t feeling “alone”, I was feeling “lonely” which was far worse.
I went through so much in six days to a point that I ended up crying out of nowhere one day because it suddenly dawned on me, the reality of my life and the path I was in. This wasn’t where I thought I would be in my 20’s : Realizing the possibility that I could end up single the next year, or worse – that I may never have kids. I felt like the cursed Titan, Atlas – whose punishment was to carry the world on his shoulders for eternity.
With the passing of my Mother three years ago, there really was no one to talk to. My spiritual relationship wasn’t in its healthiest state as well, and I had no one to blame but myself. I knew that God had better plans for me, but for the first time in my life, everything was hazy. I always feared the unknown, but now I dreaded it.
During those six days in a somewhat foreign country (it was only a 2 hour flight from where I was, but still a major change of atmosphere in my opinion), I went through almost EVERY possible emotion known to human beings. It was the most bipolar I have been in years. Like I was built up for that moment of Bliss and Clarity only to be shattered later – like Drew Barrymore in Ever After.
I flew back to Jeddah feeling restless. If anything, those 6 days were both the worst (hopefully those would be the worst) and the best (hopefully there would be more of those) days of my life. It stirred an emotional and psychological whirlwind in me.
You don’t see where I’m getting at, do you? I wish I could explain it in detail.
I flew back to the Country I was residing in, feeling like I left a part of my heart, and my Soul at Ibis Al Barsha, at Umm Suqeim, at Wild Wadi, at Dubai Mall. Being there with people who meant the world to me was like a dream. Like a dream knowing you were going to wake up later.
Looking back on that week, there was something so surreal about that trip. I was with my favorite people in the world.
And then after that... I don't know.
I got on the bus. Your face was the first I saw.
We stood on opposite sides. It was 9 in the evening and you've got your shades on.
Yet I can still feel you gaze at me.
"We're gonna get off on this Terminal", I said.
"No, at the next one", you replied.
"No, its at this Terminal. Listen to the announcement", I argued.
We both shushed the moment we were interrupted by the Woman's voice coming out of the Speakers.
"See", I said.
And you replied by smiling that smile that always, always, always takes my breath away.
And then I died all over again.
When I think about you
How you'd hold me, hug me, kiss me
I wonder if you feel it...
I wonder, if you feel me feeling you...
Through those memories.
I wonder if you feel my fingers
Running through your thigh, your back...
I wonder if you feel them
Twirling in your hair
Twisting, gently pulling
I wonder if you feel my lips
Caressing your neck, your collarbone
I wonder if you feel them
Dancing on your cheeks
Whispering in your ear
I wonder if you feel my foot
I wonder if you feel it
Twisting on yours, like a vine
With the help of my leg
I wonder if you feel my heart
Beating in a confused rhythm
I wonder if you feel it
Against the thin fabric between us
I wonder if you feel it
Thumping its loud drum like thumping
Thumping for you
Thumping only for you
Because it thumped
Only from the moment
Finally found mine
"What is that?", you asked, your brows furrowed, eyes directed to the phone resting on my chest.
I was scooting down of course, next to you at the backseat of our friend's car.
"This? Umm, I like it", I said in defense. Who doesn't love Angus and Julia Stone's Babylon?
"Stop it", you ordered, taking the phone from my chest, stopping the track, throwing the phone right where you got it.
"Stop listening to sad songs".
This Was 2:33 A.M.'s Idea, Not Mine
(originally written on February 9, 2013
Usually I would rant elsewhere with how sucky things are but my mind goes on full speed and next thing you know, I've pretty much flooded people's timelines with my sappiness. I'd like to think writing you this would make me feel better because I don't really like exposing the dirt in my brain but then subconsciously, I know someone else might come across this one day. You'll probably move houses and forget to check your drawer, where you fondly kept all of your other letters from various people. Yes, I know I'm not the only one you keep under "Despair Mail". And maybe it would be fate. Maybe they're going through the same thing as I am.
I'm not really sure what I'm doing with my life. I don't understand why the things happening are surprising me when I already had an idea of what was going on. Have I always been this stupid? Am I spaced out on a daily basis, am I not aware of what's going on around me?
See, there's the churning in my stomach again.
Today I received clarity. But how is it possible that something as clear as tap water in a glass feel like looking at a puddle of mud? How did that one answer I've been wanting to hear (and finally did) end up giving life to a hundred more questions, questions which I believe I already know the answer to, but choose to insist that I don't know shit?)
You know something happened today. Its the most bittersweet of all the bittersweet feelings I've ever felt.
We, The Damned
(originally written on February 13, 2013)
Valentines reminds me of a young, lively, and hopeless romantic Abbie who passed away. She has died and she no longer lives among us.
There she goes. I see her floating, swimming, not really sure what exactly - but her movements are graceful. I can barely see her face, so I don't know if she's happy or not, but from the vibe I'm getting its as if she's torn between wanting to stay where she is, or is making a silent plea to be brought back from the dead.
One night I look upon Abbie's eyes and see everything, like when Harry Potter watches memories with the use of a Pensieve. Seeing every detail, I couldn't help but break down in the Office toilet, wondering what the hell happened to her. Why did she have to die. She was such a beautiful child, with such a pure heart, and all the innocence she possessed, it seemed impossible for someone like her to be gone.
I miss her so much. She was the liveliest person, the most positive, the one no one could break regardless of what they did or didn't do for and to her.
I hated Abbie because she allowed it to break her. The one thing she truly believed in.
Check out this awesome trailer of a video featuring my Boys, by Tough Touch Productions
I love it. I remember how this day went down. We started at like 7 in the morning and finished at around 10:00 P.M. - so awesome. During half of the day, I had fun ruining it for some of them by making them LAUGH before the shoot. It was amazing. I love this!!! So proud!
Abbie, second name Alodia. Apparently made more sense when she was 16. Abbie Alodia is, above all - God-fearing. More? Read here
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