kalimera
“Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go.”
Dear Anias,
I should introduce myself as we learn from each other. I know very little of you, and perhaps we have more or less in common than I think.
Clara says you look so luscious and calm—a Lakshmi girl.
Despite wearing a sheer cocktail dress with my black ankle boots, I don't feel like a goddess these days. I feel lackluster. Like a moth who could not dream up the color to paint its wings.
As writers, we understand that our world is our creation.
Everything exists as a potential.
I've started introducing myself to people as a writer. I'm rarely asked. I'm seldom spoken to. My danse and yoga classes were canceled without my knowing and I showed up to locked doors and windows sealed with cloth. No light bleeds into those wooden-floored rooms scented with sweat and floral incense.
I loathe floral perfumes.
I prefer deep, husky notes with fig and plum.
I will tell you about my current great love.
Abderrahmane and I met at the beach yesterday. It was balmy and cool. A light wind. As he leaped in the waves, I thought about how we leaned into each other with the same enthusiasm and zeal. His curly hair puffed out around his face, his eyes dark and warm. I am in so much physical pain today; I feel sick.
What did he say- record what he said.
I love you. You are in my heart. Our souls are in danger. We can only be friends, just friends. I am with you, babe; I am close to you. I have never been with someone like this I feel so close to you. You are the only woman in my life like this.
Our souls are in danger. Touching you and having sex with you without marriage is haram.
We will go to Turkey and I will camp and you will come to me when you are done working. I love you, babe and I want you to be free. You are free. You can do whatever you want, and I will not judge you.
You are fine babe; you are so fine. We are good. This is about me and not you. It is my religion. Islam is so strong. It is just about the sex. Everything else is ok. I love you, and I want to be with you. I am different, this is not like your relationships with your friends. You are the only woman for me.
The question is how we express love. How we give and recieve love.
My heart is so heavy in my body. I was up all night. I could not sleep.
I was thinking about Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe. I was thinking about a character in a book who loved a man deeply and when he turned to priesthood, she slept with her twin brother and then killed herself.
This is not where the story ends; something is bright and tight and brimming with hope, between him and I. His heart is so strong. He has so much integrity and confidence. He knows who he is. I believe him when he tells me what he feels. He is saying it with his heart, not his head.
I felt this in him. Since we first met and made love in that little blue tent.
I will go with him to Turkey. I will see this grief through to the end. We will have a wonderful three months together. It will be our farewell.
Yes, that is true. No, it is untrue.
What did I think was going to happen? I didn't. I felt. I let myself float up, higher and higher, than ever before. He caught me. He has been the only man to catch me. I have shifted. I like who I am when I am with him. We are not doomed. This does not have to be over. I do not have to write it like this.
I feel like I cannot breathe.
My dreams were of a bathhouse. I was lost and he was on the phone and the connection was poor. Someone hid my diaries on the highest shelves and I'd written in a black pen that bled out and the pages were unreadable. I wrote to Christine Price Clark. I wrote in brackets with capitalized letters. There were lots of circles. I don't know what any of the journals said.
Nothing sticks. We can do hard things. I will see this through. The easier thing to do is leave. It is easier to say goodbye to him now. To tell him to take his things and go. I do not want that. I am still determining where we are headed and how we will move forward. I cannot feel it. I am numb.
I am witnessing the extent of my control. He provokes so much of what I think I am. When I am riding double with him on the bike, my feet propped up by the two slender metal bars, my hands on his shoulders, I surrender to him completely.
He is a kid. He has not had the emotional breakthroughs of becoming a man. I made the transition at thirty-three. Or perhaps he has. And this is who he is. He says who he is. Perhaps he will never change.
I cannot trust my mind. I have to go into my body and intuit the answers. I knew with him, the sex- the longing- the physical act of loving. I felt his guilt and grief.
He said it yesterday; there are so many things between us.
Can we be of ourselves and also belong to each other? I came back here for him. I returned. I have so much faith. I need a love story with a sweet ending. I cannot do sorrow. My heart is so full of pain right now.
He sees me. I know he does- I felt it in Marrakesh when he put on the movie with the girl who was a writer. Her boyfriend commits suicide in the film.
It is not his job to reassure me.
Why is loving so tragic?
It is not his job to validate me.
How do I feel right now? I feel untethered. I need to come back to my roots. I want a lover. I want passion. I want a playmate.
Zina is the crime of sexual intercourse before marriage.
Halal dating is the act of observing each other before marriage.
I can respect him and his need for non-sexual relations. I love him. This is not a step backward. This is a step forward. I feel better when I am with him. I like who I am when I am with him.
What is the request?
The question of the future. What is in his heart? How long do I wait? That is a wonderful inquiry. How long does one wait?
Anias. I need more information. Is it enough to trust your heart?
What are my anchors: writing - reading - yoga -- the ocean - the sunrise - long plane rides.
I want to do all the things with him. I want to be with him as we were a year ago. I can remove the temptation. I will ask the thing I do not want to ask. What of the future? No one knows. Be patient. Be kind. Be compassionate.
Love is a disastrous thing! I love him and am willing to sacrifice what reassures me: My Heart.
Slow down. Take your time. We have time.
Photo source.
