The act of genuine kindness and support is rare. So are matched energies.
I suppose that was what beguiled me to him. Or maybe not, because I had had no form of such interest in him until that night, when he insinuated it so.
We met at a gym sometime in mid 2019. I still remember what he wore. A grey pajamas and a white sweatshirt. He held nothing with him. He walked towards where I stood, speaking to a friend who appeared to be his friend too. They shook hands and caught up while I turned and took a short walk the other way, allowing them privacy for whatever discussion they were having. Just as I reached the training bench, I made a turn to see if they were done and there he was, right in front of me and looking directly into my startled eyes.
“Hi.” He smirked.
I managed to stammer a ‘hey’ within what felt like five minutes but was really just a few seconds. One thing led to another and our mutual friend made sure he introduced us. But that was it.
It was not until the early days of 2020 that we crossed paths again. This time, at a restaurant on a cold evening. It was him who saw me. I saw a figure stand over the table-for-two where I sat.
“It’s Yassin right?”
I looked up from the menu I was observing, even though I knew exactly what I was going to order hours before my entrance there.
“Muhammed.” I formed a slight smile.
Pulling the chair in front of me, he asked, “may I?”
“You may.”
That evening went well. We dined in peace and laughter. He amused me and by the end of the evening, he offered to drive me home.
The following days swiftly led to weeks and weeks, to months.
Our conversations came effortlessly, energy came with good vibes and connection flew freely. That was how it was. That was how it started.
One day, while at the beach, we watched the sun set in silence and as the sun leveled with the sea, I asked him a random question.
“Tell me, what do you like?”
“You.” He faced me. “I like you.”
So did I. Though I did not say. What I did, however, was show him.
Late night calls came in here and there, memories - even virtual ones - were made, and a sense of happiness I did not know existed ran through my veins until it infected them, then left them sole.
Fanta, my best friend, comforted me each time I spoke to her of how much the uncertainty of my relationship with Muhammed affected me and when she couldn’t console me anymore, she became fed up.
“Yassin. You might as well text him, or you call him, and you ask him about things between the both of you. You deserve to know where you stand or where the both of you are going with this.”
After days of contemplating of whether I should confront him or not, I sent him a message.
Yassin: Muhammed.
Muhammed: Yeah?
Yassin: I’ve been confused about a few things lately.
Yassin: Including you.
Muhammed: Lol why me?
Yassin: I mean I don’t know what’s going on and what’s not going on.
Muhammed: Honestly, me too. But talk to me.
What on earth was I going to say? Or rather, what on earth was my pride going to let me say?
Yassin: It’s calm.
Four months later, conversations started to become dull, affirmations were barely present, and within a few weeks, we were slowly drifting apart. Subconsciously to him but very consciously to me.
And amid all that, he would send me messages but indirectly so. Any wise woman would understand he wanted time, patience, trust and honesty. That, I was willing to give him. And I did so, in abundance.
But there comes a time when you become tired of giving, especially when what you desire is not given back. It was slowly becoming tiring to give that much to someone who was uncertain about you just as you were uncertain about where you stood in his life.
Then one day, it subliminally occurred to me that I was being way too unfair to myself. I had found myself holding unto someone who was unsure of me and everything I had to offer. I had been unfair to my soul and its entities.
Of all topics I could start a conversation on, with him, I was unable to start this one. And I did not. I continued to remain patient, to trust and remain as honest as possible.
I was too scared to address the issue which disturbed my peace of mind. But it began to hurt more to remain silent. I disliked the feeling of uncertainty I felt because at some point, it was not just him and I involved. We began to have a third and a fourth and a fifth party come in. They too, were gradually becoming affected by the uncertainty that revolved around us.
So I addressed the issue the only way I knew how. I poured out my burden on the notes app of my phone. I said to him:
“If ever I made you feel like I am unworthy of being trusted with your self, then accept my sincere apologies. For I wouldn’t want to do anything with your self than give it immense endearment. And there is no doubt in my desire to stay and remain patient with you, but it is excessively hard going with the flow when you don’t know what direction the waves are headed. I have no intention of staying where the desire for my presence is unsure of. I am better than that. I am worthy of more and I will acquire more than that. Though my heart wishes I stay just a while longer, my mind - which is stronger - has coaxed it into letting you go. I will no longer be unfair to myself and I will not entertain less than I deserve. I do not wish to hold on to things that disturb my peace. This is why I can’t carry you anymore.”
One week later, on the first day of the sixth month of the year, I bottled up the feelings I had for him and shut them down at the bottom of my chest. For I knew, should I feel pain and hurt at the loss of a man I never had, I would vent it to the stars of a darkening night. And regain my self.