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Sunday, November 13
Don't Test my Strength
She dreaded meeting Ahmad since the tragic day of their separation. She wanted to forget that he ever existed. He was once the love of her life. She avoided all the places that risked his presence. She abandoned all their mutual friends when they were together. She just wanted to live her life peacefully away from him.
And she was satisfied and contented with Ibrahim; a person whom she recently developed a strong bond to. She and Ibrahim shared a mutual understanding, they were good friends, and sex between them was exceptionally superb.
But she could not escape her stars; her fate planned an encounter with Ahmad in a place and hour that she had least expected.
She was shocked to see him, her anxiety to find an excuse for an immediate departure made her loose some of her self control in the beginning, but soon enough, she regained her right senses. Maturity demanded facing one's problems and not running away from them; she decided that it was time to face him and to face herself. To test him and to test herself.
The first thing she noticed was that Ahmad exaggerated his greetings to her, or may be he was genuine with his feelings! Who knows! She convinced herself that she didn't care.
The room was small with a handful of people gathering around a medium size table. They were seated on limited chairs that were cramped together in a small circle around the table, so their proximity was inevitable. But she surprised herself by the "indifference" mask that she wore on her character as soon as she awoke from her first bang.
She was happy with her achievements, happy with her indifference. Or to state it more correctly; she was exhilarated by her artificial act, not wanting to believe that she was actually thrilled to see him. He was once a part of her. They were once: one.
And in her effort to master her game, she casually conversed with all the attendees including him; skillfully avoiding his stares and cunningly pretending she didn't notice the face gestures that he was making every time he thought no one was looking in his direction. She prided herself of finally being strong enough to overcome the soft spot she always had for him, or at least that’s what she thought until she had to face test number two.
It happened when she was about to close the host's bathroom door behind her after she finished using it when Ahmad used the element of surprise in his attack on her. He grabbed her by the waist and squeezed her against his body causing an audible gasp to escape her throat and echo in the long corridor. His lips devoured her face savagely seeking their way to her lips and smothering them in a long seductive kiss causing the reserve fort that she built around herself to be crushed as if an egg shell.
He did not want to give her a breath to retaliate, and his trick worked: His familiar scent, his addictive embrace, his erected masculinity against her body, and the familiar song "you are everything and everything is you "playing loudly in the background; all conspired to explode all her dormant desires for him, and she became weak for him again.
When she took her seat on the sofa again, he was taking his turn in using the bathroom. She was glad that no one around had noticed her follies. And she was thankful that the music was too loud for anyone to hear anything. But she also felt as if she was back at home where she belonged in his familiar passionate arms, yet her weakness for this person who cared for no one except himself was not something that she could take lightly, she had paid so dearly to get over him; as much as she loved him, she feared him. She feared her love for him.
Her attitude towards him changed after he returned to where everyone else was cozily enjoying their time, she took off the mask and assumed a more attentive role. Diving into her thoughts; she contemplated what was it with this person that made her feel the way she did, she watched every move he made to get a clue, but she never found one, for Ahmad seemed too satisfied with himself for his regained control over her; he was too full of himself.
And as the hours got smaller, and the weather got colder, her mind drifted to Ibrahim's warm bed; spacing away from the crowd in reminiscence.
It was then when she realized that she did not care to know anything about Ahmad, he became one of the others. He did not uniquely exist in her life anymore. It was time to go home, her home.
And before starting her car engine to head back, her fingers urgently typed these words on her mobile "Baby, I'm sooooo horny for you", but before she could push the send button to Ibrahim, she received a message from him that drew a wide smile on her face. The massage read “well? Busy?"
Posted by AyyA:: at :: 9:59 PM::
10 Comments:
wow I can totally relate to this.
great post Ayya
I truly enjoyed reading it.
I wonder, why men like Ahmed think that they still have this place in our hearts??
Testing your feelings could be really hot and sometimes it's just emotionless and assures you that you are totally over him.
Wain Sameera?????
Does there have to be an Ibrahim to get over an Ahmed?
Ayya, how are you?
Papillona
Men like Ahmad will always play with our emotions, because we women have proved to them that they can. But one thing that most men do not get is that women need understanding.
shoshoa
LOL, you really cracked me up girl
Sameera is my baby. And her story is still cooking over low heat; she’ll be around soon ;)
Shurouq
Hey there sweet face. I’m doing some courses online and started a research which is due soon and I’m not even half way through. And I also have family problems that apparently never end, and a kid who decided out of nowhere that he wants to quit school and take a break, and mother wants me to travel with her for her medical check-ups which God only knows how long that will take, and that’s why I’ve been postponing my regular Yoga classes, shall I go on?
In short; other than one million and one problems that I’ve been facing everyday, I can say that I’m just OK :)
And yes, I would strongly recommend Ibrahim to get over Ahmad once and for all, even if Ibrahim did not last for long.
Bas shilli imga3dich imbachir? Walla ma marait Jabriya min ba3dich, lich wa7sha.
Wow, Ayya
Kil hatha? Give yourself a break, dear
Love your attitude :) and that kid of yours sounds like a healthy teenager to me.
Alla ykhalleelich yah
My Ibrahim didn't do the trick lil'asaf :/
And yeah.. I pulled an all-nighter last night
Good luck on the research :*
Ruby good luck with all that's going on in your personal life. Nice to know you are hanging on in there.
As for the story, I liked Barhoom; Ahmed was just intense attraction and no real substance.
Shurouga
You probably ended up with the wrong Ibrahim
Thanks sweetie :*
Lady J
True, but how long does it take us to realize that we are infatuated by the wrong person? And why is it so hard to overcome this infatuation, or more correctly; this addiction?
Thanks dear for you soothing wards, and I realize that problems are part of life that we have to deal with. So 3adi, life goes on. I just mentioned my personal problems here for Shurouqa to be stronger to face hers.
LOL Kristalle
It has nothing to do with heart or mind dear. Ahmad is like an addiction to her. It was natural for her to react to his touch, after all it was the first time she meets him after their separation of which she suffered a lot. But Ahmad never understood her, or even cared to do so, he was too busy satisfying his own needs. Unlike Ibrahim who made her feel contented although she did not have this infatuation for him. It is simply a difference between a mature and an immature relationship
Chemistry is a dangerous thing, girl. I really related to your post. Sometimes you dearly want the things that are bad for you (bad boys, chocolate, ice cream...), and sometimes you just have to go out and get a puppy to replace the dog.
Ami
Heheheeeee, I liked your use of metaphor.
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