I’m not saying goodbye

You’re well aware, if you follow my blog here, that I have lived in Syria for the past year and a half; while these were interesting times for me; there were pound to end. The time that I spent in Syria was an emotional and professional hurricane that I kinda wish sometimes that I never experience.

I mean, I have went into two different relationships and ended up heartbroken (and stolen from) both times; I have met intelligent and smart people; and I’ve met sex workers and prostitutes. I have been treated roughly by some people and was taken care of by others. However, I believe it was an experience that I’d not trade it for the world. These times I spent in Syria were times that managed to form me, yet again, in my life; and help me see the world differently. It doesn’t matter if what I saw was beautiful or ugly; it was new; and new is always good.

I’m leaving Syria and leaving behind a group of friends, mostly two, really, who I really care about, family members that I worry about on daily bases and a boyfriend who I’m working on helping him to move to Beirut. Why him, you ask me, why not accept the fact that this was not meant to be and move on to start new, and single, in a new city. I’d tell you why.

This guy, and let’s use his alter-ego name, Fadi, has proven to me over two months that when the right one loves you; it’s a totally different meaning to when you’re settling down to love someone who just seems perfect. I mean, Fadi did not enter my life with promises of being perfect for me; he didn’t join my clubs and read the same books that I read; he didn’t care much about who I was or where did I come from; he didn’t love me because I’m the perfect guy for him. He loves me, period. That’s all; he does; I can see it in his eyes and in the way he talks to me; and in the way he treats me. He loves me in a way that makes me feel alright all the time; makes me feel good. I needed that, I honestly needed that.

I love him because I love him; I love him because I don’t have to love him; I don’t need to love him; I want to love him. I want to be his man and him being mine.

So, yes, I’m not saying goodbye to Syria; I’m not saying goodbye to Fadi. Syria has made me, for almost a year and a half become this cynical, ugly, unhappy person; and for that I’m thankful; because that pushed me to try to change it back and return to being me. Fadi made me, for almost two month, this caring, happy, beautiful person; and for that, I don’t want to let go of him. I will continue to love him. I will help him move to Beirut as well.

It’s a life time thing; and that I’m somehow sure of.

(oh, and if you’re in Beirut and wants to hang out, comment here, please.)


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