Gia’s Perfect Latte (Part Nine)

We sat and there was awkward silence at first. I was afraid I would burst into tears if he looked into my eyes. I kept looking at my Blackberry; only looking up occasionally. He kept looking at me; my hands – that were obviously shaking. I tried to clench on my blackberry as hard as I could, in hope to calm my nerves down. He joked about having to choose between him and……

“that Blackberry”.

For a second I thought he was going to say ….that guy.

The minute they brought our coffee I was reaching for my scarf and ready to leave. He looked at me and said:

“leaving already. If your flight wasn’t this evening, I would really get upset”.

I told him Mohammad Abdu said it: “…Lathat L 7ub fe L shai L gleel…”

I also continued; as I took a quick sip from my triple espresso, they could also serve this in a mug if they wanted. It keeps you wanting more. So they don’t. That is how fine things in life are; they come in small packages. At this point I was not making any sense. So I chose not to continue.

“Oh.. so you are a Mohammad Abdu fan..”

Yes, you are not the only one who knows these songs. I am a huge fan; I know all the oldies by heart.

I kept my promise and listened, without even having the ability to speak; had I wanted to. What was the harm? I am in New York, he is London. There is no pressure. He would not be expecting much. Nothing I could not agree to – at least. I was not even going to scare him off by demanding monogamy until we meet again. Rather, if we meet again. I believe it is against human nature. Wanting only to be with one person has to be preceded by a commitment. Commitment has to be for a reason; any reason not necessarily love. I choose mine to be love. Only love and nothing less. Not mutual acceptance.  My commitment is for life. I would never commit to a person I could not see myself marrying. I would never marry a person wanting to spend less than a life time. I do not believe that is possible. However, I choose to make-believe it is. I hate setting a bunch of rules from the beginning, it just makes dumping his ass if needed that much harder. Listen to me, thinking about the convenience of being able to end it before it even starts.

As I got up ready to leave; I received this email [Subject:Sorry]. While my eyes were fixated trying to read it; Mohammad had jumped behind me to pull my chair out – I thought that was only practiced in fairy tales. “What is it? What is wrong?” he said as he stood behind me and helped me with my coat as I pulled my hair up. “That’s a coincidence”. I said out loud.  Nothing important don’t worry about it. I figured anything from my past should remain there. Saud was never even technically part of my life. His presence was significant only between myself and I. Everyone has secrets. Small secrets. The less I know about him the better. So, I assumed he would appreciate the same.

I was planning on sending Saud an apology for my behavior; wondering if Yahoo search would be able to help me with that old email – my ex was conveniently still spying on me through. He will be thrilled that Saud and I are/still are in touch. I learned that the hard way and moved to Gmail for good. What was scary; that Saud still had my email – god knows when I gave it to him in the first place. All we ever exchanged were cheesy e-birthday cards and what not. So impersonal. Do not use them. Nothing serious. However, the cards did continue throughout the years as I progressed through my career and got older but not a bit wiser. I know for a fact I did not receive one from him last year and was not counting on getting one next month.

The message was truncated and the file was unreadable on my Blackberry. So, I couldn’t tell Mohammad even if I wanted to. Guess I will just have to wait till I get to the hotel.

I rushed back, the driver who was waiting to take me to the airport was sent back to my mom’s to get me some help. There was no way on earth these bags and shoe boxes would fit into these suitcases. It was geometrically impossible. I thanked god dad was not around or he would force me to leave the old stuff at the hotel and take only the new. “You buy new things that means your “old” things are not good enough”.

The squad arrives as I came out from the shower; I told them to fit as much as possible then take whatever is left next morning to my mom’s. I will get it later. I have to be honest; you cannot be as mean as you want; wrapped in a towel. I pop my laptop open and read the email with my hair dripping on the keyboard. “If I leave the laptop… take it back with you too” I say, given the fact its surface was now all covered in water. I was speechless and in shock to even notice.

To be continued……..


~ by Purple Velvet on November 22, 2010.

One Response to “Gia’s Perfect Latte (Part Nine)”

  1. Bravo.

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