“May you never experience loss again,”
She said to me.
I love it when someone tells me that.
Loss is such a heart-wrenching experience.
romantic relationships, marriage

Long ago I decided to forget and to forgive, and ever since, I've been forgetting everything and forgiving anything.
So, each time you hurt me, I would just forget what you've done and all you've said.

I have an alter ego named Adalaat.
Adaalat only recently started to make an appearance after years of me being poorly treated.
Adaalat gets me riled up every time him and I have a fight.
romantic relationships

I stopped hearing about her a long time ago.
When I found out that she was in a relationship,
With someone who was prepared for marriage,
And that they were intending to get married,
I withdrew in a nice manner and wished her all the best.
I mean I know my luck:
I am always too late.

I called Tante Hoda and quickly realized that the whole school and Kuwait thing wasn’t real.
I could’ve told my auntie that I knew what she was trying to do,
But I wanted to put an end to all future attempts at finding me a husband.
So I went to the club and met auntie, Tante Hoda and the suitor—tall, with glasses, and eyes on the floor.

When I’m alone, pondering my rejection of this rotten, patriarchal world, I wonder if my opinions truly are extreme.
I mean, so what if my uncle divorced his wife five times?
And what's wrong with my other uncle being married to three women at the same time?
And why is it a big deal that my aunt was once beaten up with a pair of flip flops for refusing to make a cup of tea for her
husband, who was lazing in front of the TV watching a football match while she was busy scrubbing the bathroom floor?

I found myself forgetting about the music,
And the fitting Fayrouz lyrics streaming from my earphones.
Forgetting about the book in my hands,
And forgetting my desire to improve my English.
I gazed at her face.

My upbringing was very conservative and restrictive,
The house and Amm Salah’s supermarket at the end of our street were my limits.
Just these two.
From kindergarten to the second or third grade
I went to an Islamic school.

We got engaged, and then married.
My mother never talked to me about anything except on the day before the wedding.
It was the first time we talked about boys.
She was very calm as she told me what to do and that I shouldn’t upset him.
romantic relationships, marriage, sex, parents

Ali: “Fuck that, how could my wife wear a swimsuit like this one?
And stand in front of men, while they look at her thighs?
Does it not bother you, Sherif, the idea of your wife wearing a swimsuit?”