Gia’s Perfect Latte (Part Eleven)

I get to the airport everything went as smooth as can be. The lady at the check in counter even offered to block the seat in front of mine, behind and next to me. Since it is an almost empty flight. I sit down, open my bottle of water and pull out my kindle to finish reading a book I always skip to when frustrated. One that makes you giggle alone in the corner like an idiot.  My hand was shaking and I was getting drops of water on my dark denims. Even worse my leg was shaking  as if I suffered from a bad case of restless leg syndrome. “Put your leg down bitch! Do not cross your legs and make it even more obvious”. That is what I would say to anyone else that was making me nervous by doing such a thing.

I knew exactly what it was. Trying my best to ignore it but failing. It was Saud. Anyone else who would have sent me some messed up lyrics; would have been an idiot that probably just didn’t know them. Fact of a matter; Saud being the male version of myself made me so sure he did it for a reason.

لا تجاملني بآسف .. خلِ آسف للجديد
ياما عذَّبت الوسايل .. وإنتَ في رايك عنيد
قلبي ما يهوى المخاطر .. صار بيحسب للبعيد
مافي داعي من حنانك.. مافي داعي

Saying sorry to him as I excused myself was not good enough?  What was he expecting? The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. He is actually referring to Mohammad as “Jaded”…. That really sounds bad. It’s like I have a new guy everyday.

First, there was my fiancé and there was nobody for a very long time and now I happen to meet someone I actually do like. Someone that does not get on my nerves for once or make me hurl from his use of tired phrases; ones I have been hearing since seventh grade.

Why oh why did he have to walk back into my life on the exact same day I was meeting him for the very first time – a him I happened to like back this time. Why did I have to see Saud in London at all? I avoided staying at my mother’s hotel for a reason. Every Saudi you do not want to see – or in my case do not want to run into – will be staying there or hanging around at least. So not my scene.

I am known to have obsessive compulsive tendencies. I also master reading between the lines. However, I only exercise this when dealing with a person known to me as one who precisely embeds something valuable into meaningless words. I do not waste my time doing such with shallow people and/or ones who hardly can spell what they write; let alone mean beyond what they have jotted down. My time is too valuable and my brain is constantly thinking without practising such behavior for no given reason. Being seriously interested in that person and wanting to read between the lines in hope to find a different meaning other than the obvious; is a very valid one in this case.

They announce the flight and people start to board. I wheel my tiny duffel cart and get comfortable in my seat. I start spreading my stuff out and take my full-size pillow out of the bag, put it on my lap and hug it. Holding my sweats in my hand waiting for everyone to settle in their place before I go and change into them; I take a brief walk down memory lane.

Paris circa 20o6…….

I had just flew in to see the newlyweds; my sister and her husband – briefly after ending my own engagement.  We go to dinner and there he was. The love of my life; the one I could never be with.

I look at him and ask my sister “is he cute?”

Sister: “He’s OK I guess nothing special, typical najdy”

What do you mean… look at his eyes. This is flan’s friend.

“You left flan for this guy? She specifically refered to him as “thalshefah” You gotta be out of your mind! You cheated on flan with this ugly son of a bitch. I want to walk across the restaurant, over to his table and slap him”

There was no cheating; calm down. There was none of that.

“so he happens to magically appear in front of us”.

Look at his eyes, they are pretty

“yeah dark circles I spend hours trying to hide; are very pretty”

He stays up a lot. Besides it’s not that… it is the way he looks at me, his eyes say all the words I want to hear.

“Let’s leave, you have caused me to lose my appetite”

No I want to stay…..

He wants me to stay….

His eyes are begging me not to leave him behind…….”gelt yakfy… galt 3yonah b3d”

“The song that flan used to sing for you?”

Let’s stay….

Just for  a while….

الله أكــبر كـــيف يـــجرحن العــيون
كيف ما يبرى صويب العين ابد 

احسب ان الرمش لا سلهم حنون
اثـر رمش العين مــا ياوي لحد

يـــــوم روّح لــي نــظر عــينه بـهون
فــزّ لــه قــلبي وصفّق وارتعد

لــفّني مـــثل السحايب والمـــزون
في عيوني برق وبقلبي رعــد

نــقّض جــروحي وجــدّد بي طعون
قلت يكفي قالت عيونه بـــعد

وانــعطف هـاك الشعر فوق المتون
وانثنى عـــوده وقفى وابــتعد

اشـــغلتني نـــظرة الـــعين الـفتون
حـــيّرتــني بالـــتوعد والـوعـد

هي تــمون الـــعين ولاّ مــا تـــمون
لى خذت قلبي وقفّت يا سعد



Flan thought my eyes were pretty, he only liked things I cannot take credit for. Almost the whole family on my dad’s side have my grandmother’s pretty eyes and long lashes.

It’s not about how they look it is what his eyes say. Saud’s eyes have said what a million words could never express.

“you had your fling. Now go back and fix things with him, you did only ask for a break to think things over”

To be continued……


~ by Purple Velvet on November 25, 2010.

5 Responses to “Gia’s Perfect Latte (Part Eleven)”

  1. I like 🙂

  2. I feel sorry for Saud 😦 ksar 5a6ry

  3. @Faten: Why is that?

  4. ohhhh i don’t want the story to end !!!

  5. Everything must end…… don’t worry I have many more. It’s safe to say I’ve known enough creeps to keep you entertained.

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