DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #137 - I was made for lovin' you

'So, you can't open a bank account... 'cause you aren't cleared for that?' He chimes in, brows furrowed, and quite relaxed expression on his face. Oh sweet, I thought we'd gotten over talking about bank accounts and IBANs, I thought we'd sorted things out without an actual 'yes' or 'no' to my 'can I have your bank account number?' ... but he's bringing the whole thing back, much to my surprise and disbelief. And guess what, he's doing his thing in a very Sean way: which means, not giving an answer to my only question, beating around the bush, and making sarcastic remarks on how I ain't cleared to do many things. Because of my age, and because of my status in this country too. I ain't cleared for night clubs because I'm under 21, and I ain't cleared to open a bank account of my own because I'm trans and Jordanian. I mean, Transjordanian from the Emirate of Syria, according to Sean. But hold on, he doesn't know where I'm from, like for real, and I don't remember having ever told him that I'm a student with a student visa, to the US government. I'm gonna get myself in a real dangerous position, answering this question in total honesty... but does it matter? Getting real with him is all I want. And actually, I'm shocked ... he's asking a question ! An insightful one! And it's never a bad thing... especially considering that Sean never fucking asks questions.

'Pretty much so. I shouldn't be working at all here'. I answer, twiddling my thumbs again, narrowing myself into my shoulders, and snuggling so close to him that my cheek becomes one with his chest. Can we become one, like for real? So that we won't have to bid forever farewell in about eight months from today? Because my visa will expire, but my love for you never will? Actually, it's very optimistic of me to think that I'll finish my eight months abroad without getting kicked out of the US for having worked without an appropriate visa. It's illegal and punishable to do that, and I know it. I'm getting myself in trouble, more and more everyday, but I just can't stop doing the good hustle. I'm too Palestinian to stop hustling ! I'm Palestinian, and I am a certified, little daredevil. It runs in my blood, and I can't help it! My life philosophy is very 'whatever happens' oriented. If they kick me out of the US because I worked without a work permit, and they send me back home... well, shukran ! I mean, thank you ! I will come back stronger than ever, for my besties and for my beautiful boyfriend, and with tons of exotic gifts !

'Cherry, baby? Do you even have a Visa?' He asks me, with a sprinkle of worried in his eyes that really gives it away, and I look back at him with a relaxed smile on my lips. As to silently tell him that it ain't what it seems, before having to get too verbal about it. Well, I think he hasn't quite caught my drift here, if he'd caught my drift he wouldn't be asking me questions on whether I am an illegal immigrant or no... but still, it's a question, and I always appreciate questions from my boyfriend who's generally stingy with 'em. Especially when I don't have to be scared of my any potential answer.

'Of course I do! Just not a work one!' I squeal, getting honest but in a rather stingy manner, and answer his question in the most vague way there is. Because y'know, I still don't feel ready to kick off that conversation in which I come out as a student with a student visa who's set to leave this country within a mere 250 days. I don't know how he would receive the piece of news. I don't know if his attitude towards me would change, if he found out that we aren't set to be together for a long time. I love him, he loves me or at least so he says, and I just know he wouldn't be happy to find out that I've been having a whole serious secret with him since we've been knowing eachother. For that I feel like a worm, like a lowlife ... and I only find slight solace when I think that, at the end of the day, it takes two to tango. It's true that I've never opened up about my best kept secret, but he's also never shown real interest in finding out who I am and what I'm doing in this country. Sean has a little bit of a simplistic mind, and a very simplistic attitude. He feels good? He doesn't ask stuff away. He just vibes and vibes and vibes, until the vibe is there. He doesn't wonder, he doesn't question, he just vibes, and he vibes hard. And although I love this about him, I sometimes just wish we'd talk seriously more often. Now we're doing it, to some extent ... but still, I don't know how to even chime in and tell him that, unless I find a way to stay in the US, I can't be that woman, to him. Ugh.