*
*Hallucinating*
‘It’s being a year since she first met him..
She spent ten days with him, and no matter how hard she tried to reason with her feelings, to make sense of it, she knew it was love at first sight.
She picked up a paper and a pen hopping to pour whatever she was feeling in it.
To kill it while revisiting it. Or maybe, just maybe, by repeating it, to make it real again.
She willed herself to forget by remembering everything, but maybe all she hoped was to put it somewhere safe, too afraid to lose it forever.
She remembered the first time she laid eyes on him, going into that small office in the seventh floor. It was fairly easy to find, second door to the left, and he was there waiting for her, smiling, the moment she stepped in.
She introduced herself knowing well enough it wasn’t necessary, and he did the same. She thought he was attractive. Not particularly pretty.
Later on she wondered, repeatedly, why him. Maybe she was simply ready to fall in love.
She stopped long ago blaming herself; she had no control over it. She just fell in love.
What an expression, she wondered while looking at the few lines she managed to write. Who coined it? How did it become a universal saying? Why was she blaming herself for falling in love? ‘Because he didn’t love you back’, she conceded. She should be ashamed simply because she loved him and he didn’t return the favor. Mostly because she betrayed a good man in the process.
It was a job interview and he was the interviewer, she had to look self-confident, hiding her shyness and how little she thought of herself. And she made the mistake of looking him straight in his eyes. His small, beady eyes. So small, but the honey swirling inside made them less unattractive. Or was it simply the way they smiled, how nice and welcoming they made him seem? How good she felt around him.
Why did she have to describe his eyes? It was of little importance now, and she knew it. She just needed to mention how unappealing they were. To think he was less, unworthy. How come she fell so deep then?
Being in love is just bizarre, there is no rules prewriting ‘for the benefit of the user’.
You never know when or why. No instructions. You just bear the consequences, and it’s rarely pleasant. Not for her.
A few hours later, a few pages later, she looked at her handy work, she read it again and she ripped it apart. Then again into smaller pieces. She had to hide her crime, and it was surprisingly a satisfying act. Liberating.
*
Layla
It was Christmas eve, again. But the Nasser’s were not a regular family on Christmas Eve. They don’t gather happily, unwrapping gifts, buzzing and moving around happily. God forbad. There was shouting and fighting, and Layla would hide in the corner of the smallest room you can imagine, the bedroom she shared with her siblings. She had mastered the art of pretending she didn’t exist, and that nothing was happening in the adjacent room. Truth was she was scared. Her father was an aggressive blog, and he would easily turn physical, and that made her scared. It’s not that he would hit her, her mom made sure it never happened, but she was afraid nonetheless.
She waited until the commotion subsided and sat at the table, not really eating, but she was a good girl who would always do as she should. Besides, she didn’t think there was enough of the good stuff for everyone anyway. There never was.
Despite her efforts, Layla wasn’t anyone’s favorite within the household, so she had to be quiet in order to avoid any hostility. At a young age Layla was made aware she was not pretty, everyone around favored her younger sister, the one with the big eyes and full lips. And she learned to live with it. Even better, the naïve girl she was, she didn’t even pay it much attention, she just learned her place within her entourage.
But she was smart, or so she thought. Apparently she wasn’t smart enough. How else would she end up in her current predicaments if she was, 15 years later? She had a job, true, but it was a poorly paid eight to five job, with no motivation whatsoever. She was married to a good guy, that was also true, a “traditional” man, as she would label him. Truth be told, she lost hope a long time ago in spicing up her marriage, to start any kind of passion or excitement with the man. That’s why she was adamant about not having kids.
It was cruel of her, she would often admit it to herself, but when it came to bringing a new life into this world, she wouldn’t budge. If she was to bring a new soul into the world, a baby, she needed to make the house happy and loving. Kids need laughter as much as they need food; there was no compromise in her mind. She also needed a better income to make their early years easier than hers. She shouldn’t worry about food or heat or school. Of course she couldn’t share the main reason with her husband, so she kept on and on about the instability in the country, the political situation. “We can’t raise children in this economy” she kept telling him.
*
“Let’s travel”
“What?”
“Let’s leave this place, pack our bags and leave”
Layla, bewildered, put down her fork and looked at her husband of five years.
“Karim! What are you talking about?” It wasn’t like him to snap or have wild ideas, so she couldn’t wrap her head around what he was saying “you know we can’t afford a vacation, and my boss will give me hell if I asked for several days off on a row”.
“Not a vacation, Lili. Let’s leave.. for good. Put this place behind us and start anew somewhere else. Somewhere better”. He finally lost it, she laughed to herself.
