the poet

where one loses a friend

may had just begun, it was starting to get warmer and our ac was acting up. so i decided to play bob the builder and follow a youtube tutorial which ... went horribly wrong. 

i dismantled the entire ac and for some bloody reason it wouldn't join back together.

not only had i upset naznina by stalking you -- i had now broken our ac on the cusp of summer. 

the only time me and naznina even bumped into each other was dinner. it was mostly silence with a few "how's your food?" and "nice weather today" here and there. 

naznina didn't talk much usually but i knew she was upset this time. she was careful with her words but she'd make it known when she was upset. 

i obviously wanted to fix it -- whatever i had done. 

she may have been cold to me these past few months but my savior complex was getting the best of me. i needed to help her. 

help her with what? 

exactly! help her with what?

i was going insane. this city, these people, they were driving me insane. i missed my parents. 

sometimes, when i started missing them too much for it to be considered healthy i would think about the times they had wronged me. 

yelled at me, accused me of things i didn't do -- just so i would stop thinking about them. 

i don't resent them; parenting it difficult. 

raising a child seems so terrifying. a little bag of blood and bones you created whom now you have to protect from the ferocious world.

there's not right way to parent a child but they are many, many wrong ways and though my parents had avoided those wrong ways they had their moments. 

whenever i'd get an hour or two off between classes i would come sit by the river, the same river i first met you at. 

the river was starting to pity me -- god! i was starting to pity myself ... what had become of me?

all these months, these seasons, these faces, this -- this fucking river!

why was i here? why couldn't i be happy here? i spent months studying so i could get into this university, i dreamt of this city, to walk amongst these people but it hated me and i hated it.

there was this hunger inside of me i didn't know how to feed. 

around the 6th day of may i met you again. i was wallowing on the bench starting at those bastard geese swim up the river when you called out to me. 

every ounce of blood in my body shot up to my head. i thought i was seeing double vision for a moment. 

you didn't call me by my name -- you didn't know my name back then. instead, you said "good to see that you're not swaying around anymore." 

i barely registered the situation. you appeared out of nowhere and all i could think about was how my hair wasn't washed. 

"well" i laughed, "today just doesn't seem like a good day to dance"

gibberish, absolute nonsense. i had no idea what i was saying. 

you chuckled and plopped down next to me on the bench, "when is a good day to dance?" 

"the day will tell you when she wants you to dance for her" i blurted out. this was the first time i was looking at you up close. i was in awe, your hair, your lashes, eyebrows, nose everything you were was so beautifully sculpted.

looking at you was like reading a poem. 

mostly because i couldn't understand you. 

but i was so excited to talk to you. you listened to me go on and on about things. this city, my school, ms bryne and the geese who were long gone. 

you were always a good listener. times when i'd come home dejected from class or when work wasn't being the nicest to me, you would sit and listen. 

i stopped expecting input other than "oh?" and "that's true" because you weren't like that, you knew the mic was with me. 

i suppose from there onwards we considered each other friends. 

i would meet you between classes at sufra's cafe on thursdays. sometime you would host parties at your apartment and would invite me and naznina but we never talked much there. you never started a conversation with me and i never bothered you. 

it was july -- a whole month later when i realised that you were hiding our little friendship. 

though i didn't confront you in front of anyone, it was the little things that made me realise this. 

you never spoke to me like you did when we would have lunch at sufra's, one time you told davit you were out at the beach with your family when actually you were with me -- by the river. 

i wasn't sure how to processes this. at one point i sat on my bed with my lower lip quivering -- i wasn't crying i was just hurt, there weren't any tears. 

i was confused, angry but then this arrogance revived me. i was my father's daughter, he taught me to respect myself -- respecting myself meant keeping a distance from people who weren't treating you with respect. 

naznina and me were not on speaking terms anymore. i don't remember how it happened but one morning i woke up and the atmosphere around the dorm was awkward. i had lost her -- not that i ever had her but she was the only person in my life at that moment who i would've wanted around. 

i wasn't sure where to go from here beside to my mom. 

. 

a/n: well 

:|

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-shir