Tanned flowers

"you know? I expected you to stand by me to a farther extent than you really did. Though, it's ok, since there's no difference anymore."

And I bite my lip till it bleeds, not that renewed tragedy ; every single day, every single night, is a very new tragedy.

I'm not a player, and it is not a play. But I doubt it could be just a very bad dream. I keep biting my lip till blood is enough to be directed inward and cover my lower teeth, I am not scared of blood any more, blood has become a matter I've got used to deal with in my job. But this time, I feel scared till my lip starts trembling, and a stupid idea of I may have lost the motor nerve supply of it comes to my mind. Then, I run to the closest tape, and I rinse my mouth.

I keep staring at the glistening screen, and keep re-reading the status, and every time I do, I think it's the first, perhaps it's due to the sleepy inspiration which already weakens my muscles, mind and soul; It's no long time since I banished the last nervous attack I faced, in  my college, amongst the lies, stressors, study, and sings of attempts to make you fail, fail and fall and fall just to lower than your shoes limit, or as deep as into a hole you yourself might mistakenly have dug looking for a well of sorcery and deceit a well of oil in this rich land – as they say, and it's rich in both- or someone else has done, willingly or not, someone as possible as you might have considered to be really nothing. In both chances, you're considerably, the only loser.

My hands tremble, and I start to cry again. I put my head on the pillow, and drown into sleep, thankfully, no dream about this issue captures me, perhaps finally God doesn’t want me suffer any more, I mean, God already doesn’t want me suffer, but this time, he decided to make me realise this, realize it by my simple narrow-horizon mundane thoughts, caring very much about my faith, the faith that can never ever escape from me, my mind, my brain, from my brain's sulci and gyri, from my cellular compartments and my blood, the blood that part of which has oozed scaring me, pushing me towards the tape.

My friend, my friend till February. When we both decided-with no frank agreement- to put an end to that friendship, and I trusted it, but the friend was likely to be only pretending, I don’t know what was the his/her aim, I don’t know what was the all going on.

No one asked about the other except for the helpless words from a time to another, that I really believed they were only for our friendship's agony.

And it was all going as it wanted to go, but the friend has never left my heart nor my mind, I really found S a true sincere friend I could trust, although every time we talked, S would mention things I hated a lot, they all were only about failure, sadness, misery,,,etc.. and I, I really would get crazier every day, and this was reflected in my deeds and thoughts, and I almost would change to a person like S, for S kept saying he/she was like me in the past – so, I could be like her/him in the future, or even in the present- then, I told myself , I must never be, I was born not only for myself, and it's not me who chooses, its God, besides, and this is the most important thing, I should stay me, if I changed, who would help S?!

I kept saying this, believing till my bone marrow, it was the agony and that if I was in S's place, I perhaps would be the same, S told me I was good and innocent and lovely, and asked me never change, and always warned me not be the same she/he was.

I kept trying comforting S, but nothing worked, even, S never told me she/he would feel ok when I talked to him, I was feeling guilty, and so weak, that I could make no change.

And I started to think, what's the benefit of being a friend while you are doing nothing. I even thought I would be just another more load. I decided to be away, despite the big feelings I owed S.

It was Sunday, the last day of my exams, S talked to me saying her/his father was at the end.

I was asleep by then, when I woke up in the morning, I read the message, and I responded that God really knows what he does, I had really nothing to respond with, I was in a very big mess, no sleep for two subsequent nights, my mom was not at home, besides, S has used to respond to me that way, so I underwent no big trouble to find suitable words, to talk with my usual way or event to ask why, or what was going on ; then " he died this morning".

I was SHOCKED, even though S her/himself has expected this, since his/her father's stage of cancer was advanced and kept telling me this, but I didn’t believe, because I couldn’t, because I really believed in miracles..

Silence for hours, no talk, no sense.. nothing I knew to do. Finally, I remembered something called "crying" I used to do frequently, but I cried so hard, I felt I needed something bigger than crying to do, it’s a feeling repeats for the third time,  I really didn’t know what did I have to do.

I wanted to call S, but" what must I say?" I said to myself. Besides, I was sure that all his/her relatives will come, and there will surely be no time for chatting. "and S' sisters? I added" and I kept crying with myself, drowning my face into the pillow and my tears into my whole face.

Once my mom told me, "Shams, if you ever see a person lost her/his parent recently, be sure to leave her/him alone till she/he wants to talk, no matter how strong is your will to speak to her/him" and what urged me more to trust the silence I was in, was that I remembered when my mother had lost her parents, and how dad had left her by herself till she had said she had been better, " after all, it's God's role " mom had said.

And I did this, with all my love from the depth of my heart, with all my sadness, passing over my usual hotheaded nature, I did the same.

Besides, I was half to believe, half not to.

Right now, I have no excuses, and I am not planning for any, it happened like this. S, in her/his city away from mine, thinks I am rude or something like this, or let's say I don’t care about what she/he thinks as much as I care for the thing I did, I did it from my heart, never meaning to let him/her alone, and I believe, no word, at least for the moment, can make any change.

Oh God, you really know how I feel.

My dear friend,

No word I found in all the dictionaries I own can help me.. But allow me to say, I keep praying for your father, as much as you confidently kept talking about him and how great he was, I loved him, , I pray for him who is in Paradise right now, keep praying for you, and your family.

My friend, what aches me more is that we live in two separated cities, but I believe in God being closer to us that our souls, not only our shadows.

My friend, just believe I am that same person who still and will always consider our friendship to be a flower, a flower I raised up with our praying, our beliefs and trust. And this flower is Iraqi, it's tanned. It's the same flower I will plant next to your father's  tomb.

And my aim, is that you know, I still love you … My friend.

By the first moment we had, by the  first name we said, and by the first goal we decided to work for, I swear, you will always be my friend, no matter how bad I misunderstood you, how blurred your speeches and intentions were, and no matter how hard to say I may lose you forever right now..

No matter, how "no difference" is there anymore.

I will always love you...  my friend..

Sandybelle