Love don't live here anymore?

This morning I woke up freezing from the AC, wrapped around him for warmth. Which is fairly typical because he moves around so much when he's asleep that the duvet never stays on me and I get cold. So I got used to just reaching for him because he is like a human hot water bottle. As much as my circulation sucks and I am always cold, he must have amazing circulation mashallah because his skin always feels hot. And it's easier to find him than to find the duvet and dig it out from under the two of us. But then he would move again in the night and I would get cold and follow him. We'd wake up, uncovered, lying horizontally across the bed sometimes, with me wrapped around his back, nothing like the point we started from, which is each of us in our side of the bed like normal people.

So this morning, I opened my eyes and lay there for a few minutes, not feeling like saying anything, trying to tell from his breathing whether he was awake yet. He was. I guess he must have been listening to my breathing too because I felt him move to get up. I mumbled no, am cold. So he turns over in my arms, pulls me with him so we're lying on the bed the way we're supposed to and then pulls the duvet over the two of us. And I fall asleep again. The next time I wake up, he's gone. And the baby is crying - which tells me my husband is out - because he wouldn't just let the baby cry if he was home and awake. He would have been in here in a second.

As I get up for my son, I think how, a few months ago, if I didn't want him to get up I would have said no stay, hold me and we would have ended up making love. And I would have said I loved him. Over and over again. And eventually he would have said it too.

Waking up with him used to be so romantic.

I noticed something strange. I noticed that I don't say I love my husband anymore. Not to him. And not about him. Not even to myself.

And he's stopped saying it, too. But then he was never as comfortable with that word as I was. Most of the time when he would say it, it would be because I said it first.

And now I am not saying it so I guess it's no surprise that he's not.

I am surprised at me. Is it because we've been together too long? Or because we're married? Or because we're parents? I don't know.

I just find it sad the way the word just seems to have quietly died between us.

I mean, it doesn't sound right anymore to say I love you or I love him about my husband.

I am struggling to understand why. And the thought that jumps out at me is that the word 'love' always comes linked to the word 'I'. And I think in terms of 'I' less and less these days. So much more often than 'I' now, it's 'we'. We went, we thought, we bought etc....

He does it, too.

'Have we forgotten to buy milk again?'
'Are we going out tonight?'
'Let's go to bed'
'Let's get up'
'Oh so we're doing that are we?', usually in reference to the conversation taking a turn he doesn't like.

Our son is not included in the 'we'. It's 'we' and 'he'. It's 'us' feeding him, or 'let's get him settled down to sleep' or 'do we get him this or that'. We, we & us. And he, he & him.

Oh my God. Help me! I have turned into a we!

What is wrong with me?

I don't think I'm suffering from post-natal depression. Even if I had any tendency to get depressed, I've had to fight so hard to be a mother that sheer relief that it finally happened would have overcome any such tendency. For me, this really is living in a dream come true.

Not particularly hormonal either. Am not irritable or overly anxious these days. At least not anymore than usual. I don't feel I am. And no one else has told me I am.

So what IS wrong with me? What is it that I think I saw that day? What? My husband having an affair?

No. If I thought that I would be angry with him. And am not.

What I feel is not anger. I am scared.

Maybe he wasn't in the middle of an affair when I saw him up there. And maybe he wasn't going up there everyday necessarily for that. But he would have enjoyed the attention. He would have felt attracted and flattered if she seemed to be attracted back.

What man wouldn't? That's just human nature. Even if he didn't take it any further than that, and I wouldn't expect him to, he would still get a kick out of it.

That's what scares me.

There was a time when this sort of incident would have made me think, yeah isn't he hot? And he's with me. I loved to show him off that way. I would have found it funny actually.

But now I can't find that feeling anymore. Possibly because I had it back when I felt as sexy as any of those girls. Because I knew I could flatter him and excite him anytime I wanted to. Because the chemistry between me and him was always so good.

And now I don't feel fun or hot or energetic at all. I feel fat and overtired and unattractive. I feel like I'll never be interested in sex again. Ever.

And then there was a time when K would never have let an incident like that pass without rubbing my face in it. He would have tried to tease me, to make me jealous, maybe to score a few points by drawing parallels with things I had done that made him jealous and saying you see how it feels?

This time, he didn't. Why?

I am scared that things between me and him will never go back to normal again. In that one minute standing there by the pool, I was infused with all his fears of how our lives would change if we had children. All the concerns he was expressing for years, all his reservations about starting a family too soon.

I am scared because if things don't go back to normal, there will be other girls at other poolsides, who are fit and viviacious and have no stitches or bleeding. And who DO want to have sex with him.

I am scared because I don't want my husband to fall out of love with me.

What do you do?

Got up pretty early this morning. I heard the baby crying from the other bedroom where he was sleeping with Mama. When I walked in, she was rocking him back to sleep, half-asleep herself. She told me to go back to bed, that he probably just had a bad dream or something.

Do babies have nightmares?

He did go back to sleep as I stood there watching. So did she. But I couldn't stay away. I wanted to hold him. So I picked him up. He sort of whined and stretched a bit more and then settled down again on my shoulder.

Walked around with him all over the house until I started to tire. So I went into my bedroom and set him down in his crib. Mama was right, as usual. It wasn't time to feed him yet and he didn't need a change. He was fine. It probably was just a bad dream.

It was only then that I realized my husband wasn't home. His cell phone was on the bedside table. Apart from the mosque, the only other place he would go without his phone was up on the roof, to the swimming pool.

Had a quick shower and changed. Then I went up to look for him. In the lift on the way up I realized that - apart from my time in the hospital - this was the first time I'd been out of the apartment since about a week before the baby was born.

Walking past the changing rooms and the health club on my out onto the poolside, I could hear her. A woman laughing.

She was on her way to the changing rooms so we practically ran into each other. A neighbor. One of a group of cabin crew who shared an apartment about 2 floors above us.

She stopped, said hi and congratulations on the baby etc....She told me they would stop by and see me, she and her roommates. And I said all the right things.

Then she left and I continued out a bit further onto the poolside until I caught sight of my husband in the water.

He was swimming like I know him. Doing lengths. So grim in determination. A man with a mission. You'd think he was training for the Olympics or sth.

It made me smile. But then my mind went back to that girl. No one else was there. They'd clearly been in the pool together. And she was laughing. Unless she was crazy, she wouldn't have been laughing unless he'd said - or done - something to make her laugh. She can't have been laughing by herself.

And once my mind started on that track, I couldn't stop. She was so tanned and fit and gorgeous in her bikini. And watching him, I was reminded of how good-looking he was. And how long it had been since we'd had sex. And how fat and sexless I felt these days.

In my head, I started counting how many times he'd been up to the pool lately.

I was reminded of something else. Something stupid I'd ignored at the time. A woman at the hospital had told me that this was her 3rd baby and she never lets her husband attend the birth because it puts men off sex with their wives.

And I thought how my husband had witnessed every gory minute of the birth of our son.

I felt so frightened. Cold, shivering, sickening fear.

Don't know how long I stood there before he saw me. He waved from the water. I didn't wave back. Just stood there staring, while he got out of the pool and walked over.

He looked so worried. And I found myself thinking why? Why was he worried?

I couldn't say anything to him. At that moment, I was afraid of him, of what I was thinking of him, of the horrible visuals I was suddenly having. And then I couldn't even look at him anymore. I had to turn around and get out of there.

I was practically running back to the apartment - and back into the safety of my bed. I just hid under the covers.

I heard him come into the bedroom and check on the baby.

And then he asked me what was wrong, if I was feeling ok.

I didn't want to tell him. Some things you fear so much that you can't bear to say out loud because saying them might make them feel more real.

So I just didn't say anything.

He went and woke Mama up and told her to come and see what was wrong with her crazy daughter, I guess.

I didn't tell my mother either.

He went swimming again this morning.

Just Thinking

1) Happy to be home at last. My hospital room was starting to feel like a prison cell.

2) Overwhelmed: Mama is so good with the baby. I don't know how I can ever be as good as she is. She never panics and always knows exactly what to do. And I still panic at the slightest sign of distress from him and have to call her.

It's stupid to compare, I know. I mean, this is my first baby while my mother has raised 5 children AND she is a doctor. Of course what is overwhelming to me will be a piece of cake for her.

And it doesn't help that I still can't be as active as normal.:(

But still, she will be leaving sooner or later and she is one hard act to follow.

I hope I will pick up enough from her before she leaves.

3) Circumcision is awful. One of the few times in my life when I wished I wasn't born a Muslim. I mean, the way it felt. He's my baby. I just half-died giving birth to him. And they HURT him. And I had to let them when what I really wanted to do was to just BITE all of them until they bled.:(

Anyway, he seems ok now so I guess this is best forgotten.

4) My son has mascara eyelashes. Mashallah. I mean, I wish I could get mine to look like that with mascara. They're so thick and long and dark and beautiful. Guess they're his father's but they show more on him because his face is so tiny.:)

He's sleeping again

Are babies supposed to sleep so much?

Mine is only awake when he's hungry or needs a change.

I can't seem to leave him alone though.

I noticed if I tickle his little feet with my nail, he'll wake up right away.

It's so cute. He's ticklish.:)

Same if I kiss his ear. Or the back of his tiny neck.

I keep finding new ways to wake him.

But he wakes up crying. Not happy that Mommy wants him to get up and play.

YOU won't let HIM sleep because you want to play, my husband asks? Which one of you is the child?

Good question!

I AM a little like a child with a new toy.

Hopefully I'll grow up soon.

Speaking of growing up, I can't wait until I can do everything for him myself.

Don't like that I need so much help with him.

I still haven't bathed him once. Or changed him. Or breastfed him.

I am missing so much.

I wanna get better already!

Battles Lost, Battles Won

So he always thought I should be more reserved. A long-standing complaint is that I am too approachable, too much of a party-animal, not selective enough about who I mix with etc...

When I would argue, he would listen. At least he would appear to. He would appear to put up with it.

Now he says he tried and tried but he just can't put up with it anymore, that I have to change, that he is out of patience. He even plays the motherhood card now, tells me I have to change certain things because am going to be a mother.

The true extent of what I am being asked to do is becoming clear. It's not just a question of not going to clubs without him or not getting photographed while I do it. It's deeper than that. It's teaching myself to think of his feelings as I interact with people when we're not together. Something I still struggle with. He may always be on my mind. I may think of him and talk about him a lot when he is not with me. But I behave pretty much the way I always have. When I am out in the world, I have this different persona. The extrovert, the life and soul of the party, the girl who is ready to be with anyone as long as she doesn't have to be alone for a moment.

That's what it's about. It's not having people in my life whose presence there I cannot explain to him. That's what he really hates. Not that I go to clubs but that he has no idea who I'm with when we're not together, because a lot of the time I don't know myself ahead of time who I'll end up spending an evening or an afternoon with. He hates that I am in pictures with guys whose names I don't know. He hates that we can go out in public and I can be greeted by guys and then when he asks, I can't remember how or when I might have met them. He hates that there are still people who know me but don't know I'm even married and don't know he's my husband. Not because I mean to hide it. Simply because I might have ever met them only once - for one outing - years and years ago. All leftovers from a lifetime of just hanging out with anybody and talking to anybody to avoid being alone.

It's always been a point of contention that he likes to surround himself with a small group of people he trusts while I just like to surround myself with people. Stability, familiarity matter to him. Even his wild friends - much as I dislike them - he's known them forever. He likes to get to know people one at a time so he can take his time and seize them up and figure out if he trusts them before they're allowed to become part of his life. And now I am part of his life and he can't keep track of the people around me.

In response to the latest clash, I can't find the usual sense of rebellion. I can't hear the voices inside me that used to tell me that I have to be myself, that I can't allow him to mold me into his image of the perfect wife, that he should accept me as I am. Or the other voices that say well he can never be there for me all the time. There will be times when he chooses to withdraw from my life - either physically or emotionally - because he has other priorities or because he is punishing me for something. And what do I do then? Am so used to not being alone. I have no idea what to do with myself when am alone. None of that is resonating this time. Not really.

And - because he knows me so well, he can sense that this time I am not up to much of a fight, so he won't stop pushing until he gets his own way, once and for all. He won't execute a tactical retreat like he used to do in the past when he could sense I wasn't ready to back down.

Another reason why he wants this resolved now is that we are about to start a new life. This is my city. The city where I grew up. The life I have had since before I even met him. But when we leave here, I will be on his turf instead of mine. And he wants to make sure that our new social life is established on premises he is more comfortable with.

I guess he wants what he wants more than I want the opposite. I don't want to be a social butterfly badly enough to withstand all the hassle. I don't want my freedom enough to pay for it by putting up with his disapproval, his lack of attention - especially not now.

And he clearly wants me to change enough to put us both through whatever it takes, for as long as it takes for me to back down.

So he wins.

I think I've already changed. Probably not in the healthiest way possible, which would have been out of true conviction that it is right thing to do. I've changed because the look on his face when he saw that picture - and some of the more memorable things he said to me over this and similar things in the past - are haunting me in a manner that is affecting the way I behave. I've changed because after the long separation, I need him to be with me 100% and he's shown that he's perfectly capable of being physically here and yet being so distant that I am as deprived as when he was away. I've changed because I am having his baby and it is an experience I don't want anything to keep us from sharing as much as we can. It is so sad that we were not talking the first time I felt the baby move, that the state of affairs between us forced me to use our baby as an emotional bribe to get his love and attention. The same way I've had to use my doctor's appointments, my scans etc.....

Our baby is worth more than that. My baby deserves more than to be a bargaining chip for anyone - especially me.

Blah Blah

This morning I had an attack of dizziness. So my friend M drove me home from work. My husband wasn't there.

No surprise. I've hardly seen him since the last argument. He gets in very late. I always wake up when he gets into bed but I just turn over and go back to sleep. Someone is clearly going to so much trouble to avoid you, well, I do have some pride. When I can find it with him, that is.

In the morning, when I get up for work, he is asleep. And I don't try to wake him.

This morning though, I sent him SMS to tell him I thought I felt the baby move. I thought for sure he would call. Or at least reply to the SMS.

Nothing.

So it was no surprise to come home to an empty apartment. I changed and crawled into bed and fell asleep.

I was woken by something moving on my belly. At first I thought it was the baby again. But it was his hand on me.

I was afraid to open my eyes - or even breathe. Afraid that if he knew I was awake he'd withdraw and we'd fight again.

Then I realized how stupid I was being. Of course he knew I was awake. He's got to know I wouldn't sleep through this - his hand inside my nightie feeling my belly. I'd have to be dead.

I wanted to say something but I really couldn't think of anything. I was so tired of trying to find the right thing to say to him.

He asked if I was awake. I said yes. He pushed the covers away from me and put his head on my belly.

And I knew what he was trying to do. The same thing I wished I could do so many times. Place my ear on my belly and try to hear the baby move. Or a heartbeat. Or anything.

All the time, I wish that, that it was physically possible for me to do what he was doing. So I couldn't resist asking him if he could hear anything.

He said no, kissed my still non-existent bump, then pulled the bedcover back over me.

He asks how am feeling. I say fine.

I ask him why he'd been avoiding me. He says he didn't want to have an all-out fight, didn't want me getting hysterical when am pregnant, that he was just cooling off, that I shouldn't worry.

I ask him if he would hold me.

So he does and I go back to sleep for a couple of hours.

He spent this entire evening in. Still not very approachable, mostly watching TV or reading. Not very talkative. Until he fell asleep a little while ago.

But at least he was here. After the last 2 days, that feels good.

I am not sleepy at all. And I can't miss work again. That's not so good.

Stupid Wife?

Last night, I got home from work to find my husband sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop. Went up, put my arms around him from behind and kissed him on the cheek.

Then I caught sight of the screen.

There I was - in one of the Facebook pictures that caused this.

This picture was taken sometime last May. A Thursday night.

Had slept all afternoon and woken up feeling restless and depressed. K and I had had a fight earlier in the day because he didn't like something I said to his mother on the phone that apparently upset her.

First thing I did when I woke up was to call him. He wouldn't pick up. So I called his mother, had a short convo, apologized and casually asked her if K. was asleep. She said no, he was sitting out on the back porch smoking as she doesn't let him smoke in the house. Clearly unaware I'd already tried to call him several times, she said to go ahead and call him. I said ok, thanked her. And didn't try to call him again. I'd found out what I needed to know. He was awake and available and didn't want to speak to me.

Felt even worse. The depression turned into frustration and even more restlessness. Lying there, I had to sit up suddenly because I felt like I couldn't breathe lying down. I couldn't bear to be alone a second longer.

I got up, showered and changed in record time. Was already in the car when I started making calls to see where everybody was.

And so it was almost 11:30pm when I finally joined D. & F. at the club in Raha Beach. They were there with a big group of D.'s work colleagues. And it worked. The loud music, the dancing, the conversation - they helped me get out from inside my head. The claustrophobia and depression went away. I managed to forget about them for a little while.

Shortly after I arrived, I'd been standing with D. & F. telling them about how desperate I was for human company etc...We were practically shouting at each other to be heard over the loud music. And some guy behind me suddenly asked me to dance, using my name. I turned and he said he would be glad to offer me 'human company' all night. Clearly, he'd been listening in to our convo and caught both my name and that comment I made and interpreted it to mean I was some lonely woman out to pick up someone for the night or something.

I just couldn't be bothered to deal with that. So I just ignored him and walked off.

At about half past midnight, F. and her husband left. Then a little later, D. came to tell me that A. (her fiance and also my uncle) was coming to pick her up. She seemed to expect me to join them but:

1) Had sensed from earlier convo, those two needed to talk. Didn't feel like playing fifth wheel.
2) The last thing I needed that night was to be around a couple frankly. It would have just made me feel worse about not having my husband with me.
3) Had been there for less than an hour, wasn't sleepy and wasn't yet ready to face my empty apartment again either.

There was a bit of an argument when I told her to go ahead without me. She said A. would never let me stay on my own. And I knew she was right. After all, he is my uncle and he is an Arab and he definitely would not approve of my being out clubbing after midnight on my own with virtual strangers with my husband out of town. I asked if he knew I was with her. She said no. So I said fine, don't tell him and don't let him come inside. She tried to argue and I snapped at her about how just because she was going to marry my uncle, she shouldn't forget that she was my friend first and we always covered for each other. Or something stupid like that. Something she clearly didn't like because she walked off without another word.

Shortly after they left she smsed that since we WERE friends I should remember that she had to work with these people and they knew I was her friend and I should try not to embarrass her. I smsed back that I would try not to sleep with all of them before the night was out. That shut her up.

I'd managed to snap at my mother-in-law, have a screaming match with my husband and then alienate my best friend all in the same day. Terrific track record.

And so the only two people I really knew had left the party. But I am nothing if not a social butterfly. I managed to attach myself to three girls we'd been talking with earlier. We danced together, shared a greasy, bar-food meal when we got hungry and then went for a walk on the beach. They were nice girls. Quite a bit younger than me and heavy drinkers as you would expect but other than that, pretty nice and lots of fun. One of them spoke an amazing number of languages and was actually an incredibly interesting person to talk to even when drunk.

At around 3:00 am, when the club was getting ready to close, the girls told me there was going to be an after-party at somebody's place. There was some discussion within the group about whose house. I wasn't following because really what difference did it make? I didn't know anybody anyway.

Eventually, we left and headed to the after-party in what must have been 5 cars - including mine. None of the girls I was with drove - or was sober to drive even if she did have a car or a license - so I ended up the designated driver.

At the apartment, as soon as we walked in, the girls said they had to take off their shoes for a bit and have a smoke. I had pretty much the same needs by then. So the 4 of us sat on a couch, took off our shoes and put our feet up.

One of the guys had been running around all night with his camera. And he was suddenly infront of us, going on about how sexy we all looked and snapping pictures like crazy.

I didn't care. At that point, I'd decided I was going to finish my cigarette and leave. And I had no idea then how much pictures like that could come back to haunt you.

Then someone came up from behind me and placed something freezing cold on my right shoulder. I was in a slightly off-the-shoulder top so that really gave me a jolt. I turned my head to see the 'human company' guy from the club.

In the next instant, he was whispering in my ear something to the effect that as I was with 3 girls and not with a man so late in the evening, I clearly hadn't received a better offer than his so why don't I think about it?

I put out the cigarette, leaned down to put my shoes back on, got up, turned around, grabbed the glass out of his hand and threw as much of the contents on his smirking face as I could. Then I grabbed my bag and car keys and high-tailed it out of there.

I could hear him laughing from behind me as I walked out the door. I was standing waiting for the lift in the corridor outside when one of D.'s colleagues came after me, apologizing, asking me to come back (turns out he was the host), telling me he set that guy straight and he wouldn't bother me anymore, that the guy just didn't know who I was. I told him I appreciated the thought but that the last thing I wanted was for that idiot to find out who I was, that I just hoped I'd never have to see him again and that I was tired and needed to get home. He asked if I needed a lift home. I said no, I had my car with me. And that was that.

Fast-forward to last night. And that was the picture my husband was sitting there looking at.

Me sitting on the couch in the middle of 3 obviously very drunk girls, feet up, cigarette in hand, looking up at some guy who had his glass of something obviously very alcoholic on my bare right shoulder.

The whole thing could not have looked more sleazy if I had tried. And I have never felt more embarrassed in my life. I wanted to DIE.

Of course, we had talked about the whole partying and Facebook pics before. And we'd more or less cleared it. But he'd been overseas then. This was the first time I actually got a look at what he'd seen and what he'd been reacting to.

I let go and sat down on a chair next to him. I didn't know what to say.

Me: 7abibi, I am sorry you had to see this.

Him: Sorry why? I think you look pretty hot. I mean, I have no questions why this a****** would pick my very stupid wife out of all these women. I'm a lucky man. This is a great picture of you. You must be very proud of it.

There it was. The tone of voice that makes me feel like I'm something that just crawled out from under the rug. I never realized being told you're 'hot' could sound so insulting.

And no, telling myself I probably deserve it didn't help much. It still hurt like hell.

He slams the laptop shut, gets up, I see him grab his car keys.

Me: You're going out?

He doesn't answer. Just slams out of the house.

I suddenly felt so tired. Sometimes my marriage is such hard work. I went straight to bed, without even changing - and amazingly enough - I fell asleep.

I don't know how late it was when he finally made it home. I woke when he got into bed, next to me. Right away, I could smell the alcohol. First time since he came back. I didn't like it but it wasn't a good time to bring that up so I kept my mouth shut.

Me: Thanks for calling me stupid.

No answer.

Me: K, I've never even seen that picture before.
Him: But you must remember when it was taken. You didn't have a blackout, did you?
Me: K, if one of us is a drinker, it's not me. And you know it.
Him: Oh so because I drink, I should just shut up right?
Me: I didn't say that. We're talking about something that happened months ago. And we've already talked about it. And I've said am sorry over and over again. And I've done everything you asked me to do since. I really don't know what more I can do to make it up to you.

No answer.

Me: Do you have any ideas? What more can I do? Or am I just going to keep getting punished all over again everytime you come across a picture somewhere?

No answer.

Me: Did you hear me? I'm talking to you.
Him: Who is he?
Me: What? Who?

No answer.

Me: K, I don't know who he is. Some drunk guy at a party.
Him: Some drunk guy at a party.
Me: Yes, that's what I said.

More silence.

Me: Are you asleep?

He was.

I didn't get much sleep after that. And when I got up pretty late this morning he wasn't home. He's still out and I don't know where he is because he's not answering my calls.

Sounds kind of like the beginning of this story doesn't it? Like the night I went to that party in the first place.

We had plans for last night btw. We were supposed to meet with some friends for dinner at a really nice new outdoor venue. So far this morning, I've had to suffer at least two calls from people telling me how much we were missed and how much fun they had and how sorry they were that we couldn't make it.

Great, just what I needed to hear.

Right now I am starving. I haven't had anything to eat since lunchtime at work yesterday. Lunch then was a club sandwich. Not nearly enough for me and the baby.

With the reception when I got home from work, I forgot all about dinner. I wonder if He had dinner while he was out getting drunk.

I wonder why I am not more upset this morning. This is not exactly the weekend I had planned.

Something has upset him and so now he's going to give me a hard time for a few days. He's mad at me for not being circumspect but mostly he's mad at himself for not being here and somehow taking better care of me so no other man would dare to even think about trying anything.

We've talked about this before. I told him I'd rather take responsibility for not being more careful and promise to behave better than have him think he is somehow duty-bound to protect me at all times. I've explained that men come on to women in that street, in the office, at the grocery store, not just at parties and that he simply can't take it upon himself to be responsible for my never getting harrassed 24/7, that it's much more practical for him to trust me to get myself out of these situations when they arise - which I do usually, as evidenced by the fact that I have managed to get this far in life without getting myself seduced or raped or whatever.

Nothing I try to say or do will make any difference though so I might as well not bother. He will calm down in his own sweet time and things will get better only when he's good and ready. Blah, blah, blah. Been there, done that sooooooo many times.

I have an appointment for another scan tomorrow. He wouldn't miss that. It wouldn't fit in with his self-declared role of Responsible Husband of The Year not to be there. So I'll see him then for sure. And he will have to be civil to me infront of the doctor.

Then who knows? We will have to see. Am actually more worried about the drinking now. That really can't go on.

Talking

Me: So you're really staying?

Him(smiling): You ask me that everyday.

Me: Well?

Him: The answer is that's the plan. Unless something happens.

Me: Inshallah khair.

Him: Ameen.

Me: Thanks for sharing your plans.

He gives me a look and chooses not to answer. I really can't help what came out next.

Me: K?

Him: Aiwa?

Me: I don't believe you.

Him: Eh da mish momkin. Ya sheikha 2ooly kalam ghair da.

Me: I should have known you'd just make fun.

Him: Ma ana 3arif in inti mish bitsada2i(I knew you wouldn't believe it). 3ashan kida ba2alik kteer btisa'ali wi ba2ali kteer mish 3ayez arod 3laiki(That's why I didn't want to answer). Mish 3arif assassan btisa'ali leh winti mitgawiza wa7id kadab belshakl da (I don't know why you bother to ask when you're married to such a liar).

Me : La ya K. Am not calling you a liar.

Him: 7ilw 2wi(Good). Motashakireen ya sitti(Thanks). 7aith kida ba2a lama a2oolik ini hafdal gambik tisada2ini(So you should believe me). Wi tseebik ba2a min film elro3b illy inti mish btizha2i mino da(and stop living in fear).

Me: I don't think you mean to lie to me. But like you said, you have plans. You always do. You're not so great at sharing them, though. If things change, you will make new plans and there's no reason for me to think I'll get a vote then. I mean, I didn't get a vote when you decided to leave. Or when you decided to come back. Like you've been saying these past few days, you'll stay as long as you want to. And I don't know how long that is. It's scary to feel I have no control over my own life like that. Especially now.

Him: Yah danti shayla mini 2wi.(Wow you've really been holding grudges)

Me (tearing up): Am not just trying to be selfish or to get my own way or whatever. I just really don't think I get along too well without you, K.

I hear him muttering what sounds like a curse. And I think, great, I've ruined yet attempt at a real convo by turning on the waterworks, which he hates. But when I look up he's holding out his arms. I go over and he pulls me down on his lap, holding me tight. I manage to stop crying.

He doesn't say anything. Really doesn't say much of very much, does my husband.

Me: Do you always have to do what you want?

Him: What I want, L, what I always wanted, was to be with you. That's what I wanted. We both wanted the same thing. Why can't you see that? The conflict was between what we both wanted and what I thought was right.

Me: So you think it's wrong for you to be here now?

Him: Not exactly. You're my wife, you're pregnant. Inti kaman liki 7a2ik wana mish 3ayiz afdal azlimik ma3aya aktar min kida. But my parents need help and N (his sis) is so flaky sometimes. It's not a good situation. But hey, I can't be in 2 countries at the same time. We just have to make the best of things and hope we won't be stuck here too long. Wi rabina yostor.

Timing

This morning I opened my eyes just in time to see him open his eyes. We woke up together, literally. Almost.

I can't believe he's here.

I can't stop saying that to him.

Now it's almost 2:00 am. He just fell asleep. And I am sitting here torn between waking him up so he can eat the sandwiches he said he wanted and then fell asleep in the time it took me to make - and just watching him sleep. I can't decide which I want to do more and it actually hurts that I can't do both.

It's been so long since I've had options like that.

Two pillars of my existence these days: that he's here and that am pregnant. And it's like I have to state both facts for myself a hundred times everyday for fear that all of a sudden through some unseen twist of fate they would both cease to be true. After all, for years, they were not and I'd gotten used to that I guess.

I am afraid, yes.

I am afraid.

Now What?

So last week my uncle A - now married to my best friend D - had to go out of town on business. Since that left both of us on our own, D ended up more or less staying with me. We'd go out together after work then go back to my place and stay up late talking or packing or cooking or trying on clothes & make up, just basic girl stuff. And then she'd be too tired to go home and well, I do have plenty of spare beds. In the morning she'd borrow something to wear to work from me.

The whole working week went by like that. I thought it was really cool. Me and her haven't had the chance to spend quality time like that with each other in ages because we both had a lot going on in our lives & stuff. It made me feel about 15 years younger. And let's face it, I hate living alone. Always have and always will.

Friday morning, we suddenly decided to spend the day in Dubai, just for old times sake. We followed our time-honored tradition of spa in the daytime. We had Morrocan baths, facials, manicures and pedicures (with hot parafin). In the evening, we had our hair cut (trimmed in my case) and blowdried. Afterwards, we went shopping in Festival City, had free professional make-overs in Paris Gallery (not completely free because I ended up getting the foundation they used on me). Finally we went for a photo shoot - just to document the hair & make up for future reference.

Afterwards, we debated whether to eat something in Festival City, decided we weren't hungry and so we had ice cream and headed back to Abu Dhabi.

It was about 11:00 pm when we got there. D said that she missed her own place and wearing her own clothes so why don't I stay with her for a change? I said fine.

We didn't go to bed right away though. We went through our shopping, then ordered take out. After we ate, she fell asleep.

Up until that point, it had been a great day.

Then it started to go downhill from there.

I couldn't sleep. I got up, walked around their apartment, stood and stared out of the window, tried to watch TV. But I couldn't settle down to anything. I was feeling overwhelmingly hot, restless and claustrophobic.

At around 1:30 am, I started to feel nauseaous. For the first time since I found out I was pregnant, I threw up like there was no tomorrow. So much that I was completely exhausted afterwards. And thirsty.

I had a glass of canned fruit juice that I found in the fridge and it seemed to help.

D - who is a notoriously heavy sleeper - never woke up. And suddenly, I just wanted to go home. I didn't have my car with me. We'd decided to take her car to Dubai. And so I ended up taking a cab home.

In the lift on the way up to my apartment, I looked at my watch. It was just turning 3:00 am. At that point, all I wanted was to get home, have a shower and get to bed.

I walked in, switched on the lights. And in the living room, sitting in an armchair facing the front door, was my husband.

I couldn't see him very clearly because the lights in the living room were off but it was him alright. I had no fear of an intruder breaking in to sit in my living room - in the dark.

For a second in there, I wondered if he was asleep. He was so still.

Negative again, he was awake. I was being watched. I could feel his eyes on me.

I walked into the living room & switched on the lights.

He didn't move, just kept staring at me. I asked him how long he'd been there? He said he didn't know. So I asked why he didn't call me. He said he wanted to wait & see when I would come home.

And I lost my temper. That he would come home and just sit there and not tell me. That he would waste time we didn't have. For all I knew he could have been there all day. I'd been in Dubai all day.

And then when called on it, that he could just sit there like nothing happened and give me smart answers?

I was suddenly too angry to look at him anymore. I just turned and walked off into the bedroom, figuring that if he didn't care about spending time with me I didn't care either. I was just going to get on with my life like he wasn't even there.

Still furious, I was in the bathroom, removing my contacts and the make up, when he came in and stood behind me. I ignored him. But I was so angry my hands were shaking and I slammed my bottle of make-up remover so hard on the counter I could hear the bottom crack.

He said so that must have been some party. Or something stupid like that. And it hit me that he was angry because he thought I'd been out partying. After I promised so many times to stop that.

The make up and the hair would have made it look like that. Not to mention the coming home at 3:00am.

It was my cue to explain. But I was still angry and decided he didn't deserve an explanation. So I continued to ignore him. He stood there watching me for a second then he went out of the bathroom. A few seconds later, I heard the TV in the living room.

Somehow it made me even angrier that he could watch TV at a time like that. I slammed the bathroom door shut as hard as I could and locked it. Then I had my shower.

The shower calmed me down a bit. I was able to get into bed. I lay there in the dark, fuming. The more I thought of him sitting here, waiting for me, setting some kind of trap, the angrier I got. It was cold and manipulative and I couldn't see how he could have done something like that if he missed me half as much as I missed him.

Eventually, of course, I was crying. I thought of how happy, how excited I would have been if I had known he was coming, how I would have dropped everything to come rushing home to him.I thought of how hard it is sometimes to just get out of bed in the morning and get through the day without him. I just felt so sorry for myself.

I was hurt & humiliated and depressed.

I could still hear the TV.

I don't know how long it was before he finally came to bed. To me, it felt like I'd been in there crying for hours but it couldn't have been that long because it was still dark outside.

I turned on my side so my back was to his side of the bed. I could hear him behind me, undressing and then getting into bed. He said stop crying.

I didn't like the tone of voice. I didn't say anything.

Him: So where were you?
Me: K, why are you here?
Him: To see you.
Me: Right. Is that why you can't bring yourself to even touch me?
Him: Do you want to be touched? I'm not picking up any signals.
Me: I'm angry. But I'm your wife. And it's been months.
Him: You're angry? Why are you angry?

Which made me even angrier if at all possible. That he would ask. That he couldn't see why I might be angry. So I told him to forget it, that I was exhausted and had to get some sleep.

And I did go to sleep.

When I got up, it was noon on Saturday. He was still sleeping. I got up, used the bathroom, making sure all the time that I didn't wake him, putting off having to deal with anything as long as I could.

On the way to the kitchen, I caught sight of his luggage in the hallway. And I had a moment of panic. How long was he staying this time? All of a sudden I couldn't bear the thought that we'd wasted a whole night barely speaking to each other or that he might leave on the terms we were on.

In tears again, I grabbed his suitcase. A big one. Not the overnight bag and backpack he'd brought last time. I tried the combination number we use for all our luggage and it worked. Suffice it to say, there was enough stuff in there to convince me that he was here for a long visit.

Relieved, I dragged his suitcase into the bedroom, threw it open and started unpacking for him. Not caring about waking him this time. Wanting to wake him. It felt so good to be putting his clothes back in the closet where they used to be.

When I saw him open his eyes in the mirror I started talking, telling him what he wanted to know. When he got out of bed and came to take me in his arms, I said no wait. I couldn't stop unpacking his stuff. All of a sudden it was compulsive. I must have been hysterical at that point because all I could think was that everything would be alright if only I could get all his stuff in the closet and get the emptied suitcase out of my sight.

He looked confused for a bit then he left me to it and went into the bathroom. I guess he must have thought I was still mad at him. I finished unpacking and took the suitcase into the spare bedroom & locked it into one of the overhead storage spaces there.

Next I went into the kitchen to make something for us to eat. He came into the kitchen and said we have to talk. Still in the middle of cooking, I said I was listening.

Him: I should have let you know I was coming.
Me : Why didn't you?
Him: I just don't know anything about your life anymore.
Me : Well, I know even less about your life, K.
Him: I know.
Me : And I still trust you.
Him: What does that even mean anymore?
Me : It means I wouldn't do what you did yesterday.
Him: Ana asif. (I'm sorry)

I was so frustrated. With my husband, an apology is his way of closing the subject. Whatever I say after that he'll just repeat I'm sorry like a broken record. And if I push it he'll blow his top and say I said I was sorry what more do I have to do and it will just turn into one of our famous screaming matches.

He's been here for a week now. Things haven't improved much. We can't seem to stop snapping at each other.

He is tense all the time. And he does things like be openly ungracious to people he decides he doesn't like around me because they had me on their Facebook or sth.

Everyday he seems to come up with something new to piss me off. I don't know what's on his mind or what he is pushing for. So am just trying to get on with my life as usual. If the complaint is that he doesn't know enough about my life then ok, I'm letting him find out. The kind of mood he's in he's not exactly making me proud with his charm and social skills but well he IS my husband for better or for worse and so I guess my friends just have to cope with him.

Last night we had sex. For the first time since he arrived. He hasn't wanted to do it before because he's been worried it would damage me or the baby. That I understand and even appreciate. What I don't appreciate is that following a seperation of 4 months, we're back at that place we sometimes end up in where we only acknowledge each other's physical existence or approach each other physically for sex.

It's kind of like having a series of one-night stands except they're all with the same guy. Seriously. That's how cold it feels.

Now that we've checked with the doctor and everything I expect it will happen again. But the kind of relationship we have, sex is really not much of an indicator as our sex life seems to exist on a seperate plane from the rest of our relationship. I mean, we don't even have to be on speaking terms to be sleeping together regularly.

It's strange how easily you can do it - and even enjoy it to an extent - with someone you're mad at who you know is mad at you. How long is it going to be like this? I have no idea. As long as he wants I guess. The ball is definitely in his court on this one. I don't have the guts to even try and get romantic or sentimental with someone who is so unapproachable. I just take what I can get and draw on past experience to believe this will pass and things will go back to normal. After all he can't be enjoying this either so he can't keep it up forever. At some point he will decide he's punished me and himself enough and we both need more than what we currently have.

I don't know how long he's staying because everytime I ask he says something to the effect that it's his house and I'm his wife and he can stay as long as he wants.

I've tried speaking to his mother. And he hasn't told her anything either. His younger sister is taking a semester off from college and is staying with her parents so his parents are not on their own. If K is relying on her to take over responsibility for their parents then his stay could be indefinite. He could be here until my visa comes through and we can leave together.

Knowing his opinion of his sister's reliability though, I don't know how long he could take that.

And I should be ashamed of this but despite all of the above I'm glad he's here. I'm not even that upset that he seems to have turned into this jealous maniac who wants to be informed about every breath I take when not in his company. I pushed for this. By acting up, by being provocative, by hiding things and then springing them on him, I wanted to worry him enough to make him back. I wanted him to be less sure of me, to not just take me for granted. And I guess it worked. Finally. He is here with me -even if he's barely speaking to me. I do have all his attention. More attention than I can handle if he keeps this up.

All things considered, for now, am just glad we're back together again.So glad I can't really care why.

The question is, now what?

Tough

Ramadan has been tough without you.
Eid will be tough without you.
Being pregnant is tough without you.
Life is tough without you.

And I'm not feeling so tough without you.

This is me feeling weak. More so than ever before.

Only you can do that. Only you can make me feel so weak, so helpless, so forgotten, so insignificant that I want to crawl into a corner and hide.

This voice on the phone. Is that really you?

It's not what you promised me.

It's not what I signed up for when I married you. This disembodied voice coming out of my handset.

Sometimes it hurts so much to have to listen to it.

Sometimes I can't take it because the voice on the phone is you actively engaged in the act of not being here, the act of being distant, out of reach, out of touch, out of sight, out of every sense except one.

Talk about sensory deprivation. That's how it feels sometimes.

It's not fair.

This is so unfair.

And because it is so unfair sometimes I don't want to be tough.

Being tough means accepting that this is happening.

Being tough means accepting that this is allowed.

Being tough is what I do every second of the day now.

Except every now and then, I stop and think wait, why am I doing this?

Why am I working so hard to make it ok for you not be with me?

Why am I working so hard for something I don't want, for something I hate so much?

Last night I hated you.

For making me do this.

I hated you so much that hearing you laugh on the line made me see red.

I didn't want you to laugh. I didn't want you to be happy.

You know, I've never felt that before. I've never been this angry just because someone sounded happy. I've never wanted with so much passion for another human being to be unhappy. I've never been this selfish, this hateful, this vindictive, this EVIL. I never knew I had all this buried somewhere in me.

And so I hung up.

I'd had enough of your voice, distracted, amused, responsive to those around you, impatient with me.

I had nothing to say to you.

I missed you. Then I hated you. Then I called you. And I hated you even more. And I missed you even more.

Does that make sense? To hate someone more than you've ever hated another human being - knowing all the time that you want them more than you've ever wanted another human being, knowing all the time that they matter more than everyone else in the world put together?

Sometimes you make me want to not feel, not think, not be.

Sometimes you make me want to fade into nothing.

كنت باشتاقلك وانت هنا وانا هنا
بيني وبينك خطوتين
شوف بقينا إزاي يا حبيبي
انا فين وإنت فين

والعمل إيه العمل
ما تقول لي أعمل إيه
والأمل إنت الأمل
تحرمني منك ليه

عيون كانت بتحسدني على حبي
ودلوقتي بتبكي عليا من غلبي

وفين إنت يا نور عيني
يا روح قلبي فين
فين أشكيلك فين
عندي كلام وحاجات
فين دمعتي يا عين
بيريحني بكايا ساعات
بيريحني بكايا ساعات

باخاف عليك
وباخاف تنساني
والشوق إليك
على طول صحاني
غلبني الشوق
وغلبني
وليل البعد
دوبني

Different

Him: You're different.

He says that like it's not a good thing.

Me : Yes, K. Am pregnant. It changes people.
Him: It changes you.

I don't say anything. I know there's more.

Him: See? That's what I mean.
Me : What?
Him: You don't ask questions. You don't nag. You wait.
Me : This is not a good thing?
Him: It's different.

And I couldn't get anything more out of him.

For months he's been complaining about my nagging and asking me to stop. Now I stopped and so what is his problem?

Damn but marriage is confusing!

Bubble

So the 6th week has come and gone without incident. And the doctor says I am doing well.

Still no new symptoms though. Just the sleeping and the dreams.

Telling my husband and my family has made it real. I believe it now.

I am a pregnant woman. I have a due date. And regular doctor's appointments. And prenatal vitamins to take.

I am forbidden to smoke. And I can't be prescribed certain medications.

It's really true.

And now I can finally say I am happy. Warm, tingly, giggly, hug-myself kind of happy.

A simple, uncomplicated feeling.

Like floating inside a bubble.

But a pretty resilient bubble because things that would normally aggravate me just seem to slide off without piercing through and getting to me.

And I have all sorts of new habits and pastimes that give me immeasurable pleasure.

1) Taking my clothes off, staring at myself in the mirror, looking for changes, in reality, looking for the baby. I can do this for ages.

2) Talking to the baby. Not the sort of silly incoherent babble I use when I talk to other people's babies. Really talking. Sometimes in my head and sometimes when am alone, out loud. It's strange how much I find I have to say.

3) Following up from no.2, I am no longer afraid to be alone. Infact I like being by myself. I love my privacy these days.

4) Buying baby stuff. I am a shopaholic again. The fact that everything I buy I will have to pack is no longer a put-off. I would buy - and pack - the whole world for my baby. No sweat.

5) Buying groceries and cooking for myself.

6) Looking at my husband's baby pic - which is back over our wedding photo in the frame on the bedside table.

I just woke up actually. Was dreaming I was in bed with my husband. Like most of my dreams these days, it was so vivid I could feel his weight on top of me. Then the air which always feels so cold on the vast areas of my skin that had been covered by him when he would move away from me. And I woke up out of breath and covered with goosebumps.

Lay there for a bit before I realized I was alone. Normally a dream like that would have brought me to tears - of loneliness and frustration. Alternatively, it would have made me call him and pick a fight with him. Today it made me smile. That was a GOOD dream, I thought. Why did I ever react so badly? And then all sorts of memories came flooding in. All involving me, my husband and this bed. And for once, I enjoyed them.

Even though he is not with me, even though we're rapidly reaching the point where the time we spent apart is as much as the time we spent together as husband and wife, he is there and he is mine.

And now I am going to have his baby.

:)

Moments

Me : Hello?
Him: Fainak ya wa7ishni?
Me : K.
Him: 3iyoon K. Eh ya 3am? Ma btrodish leh?
Me : Sorry 7abibi. Have you been calling a lot?
Him: Inti nayma?
Me : Yeah.
Him: Hiya eh el7ikaya?
Me : Ay 7kaya? 3adi nayma.
Him: Aiwa nayma leh wi ezay ya3ni? Min imta da?
Me : Geez. Don't freak out just because I slept!
Him: I'm getting worried here.
Me : K 7abibi kol elnas tnam.
Him: Aiwa malna i7na wi mal elnas? Matghayarish elmaowdoo3. Elnas 7aga winti 7aga tanya khalis. Howa ana tayeh 3anik?

This made me laugh. Am married to someone who takes it for granted that I'm a walking freak show. If I do an average everyday thing like go to sleep at a reasonable hour he gets confused.

Me: So did you miss me?
Him: I get a little worried when you don't pick up.
Me : Why? I'm probably just sleeping or not near the phone.
Him: But you always answer your phone! What the hell!

He sounds even more confused.

Because when he's not with me am always watching my cell. My friends keep asking why I act like it's the end of the world if he rings and I don't answer on the first ring. But I decide he doesn't need to know that.

Me: So how is your father?

Silence.

Him: L., my father hasn't got the kind of condition that changes from day to day. You don't need to ask me that everyday.
Me : 7abibi, mahma kan Allah ghalib.
Him: Wani3ma billah. Bas i7na mish sogyareen ya3ni. Mish hanid7ak 3ala nafsina.
Me : Tayeb your mother? How is she doing?
Him: Ah. El7amdullilah kwaisa.
Me : Do you want to talk about this?
Him: No.
Me : Khalas 7abibi. Ana asfa. I7keeli 3anak inta.
Him: 2wi 2wi ya roo7i. T7ibi ti3rafi eh?
Me : When am I going to see you again?
Him: Aiwa imsikeeni ba2a min eleed illy btiwga3.
Me : T3ibt min elsafar?
Him: Howa ana lama bab2a m3aki bab2a msafir? Elmafrood ini fi baiti.
Me : Is that a trick question?
Him: Ya sitti. Wala trick wala 7aga. Asl illy eedo filmaya mish zay illy eedo filnar.
Me : Ana eedi filmaya?
Him: La. Bas ana eedi filnar.
Me : Salamtak min elnar.
Him: Tislameeli. Hah bardo mish 3ayza t2ooli malik?

And I really, really wanted to tell you then. But I let the moment pass. And now I feel like somehow I will regret it.

Sad.

Sleepy

Was not a happy camper when I got up for work last Monday. So exhausted. Had had about 2 hrs of sleep. But I'd already missed Sunday because of the on-going attack of insomnia. Couldn't call in sick again.

To make matters worse, I'd fallen asleep on the smaller couch in the living room. We have a two-seater and a three-seater and I'd picked the two-seater to sleep on. Not comfortable for someone of my height. So I had all sorts of muscle cramps and a splitting headache to go with the sleep-deprivation.

But I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower all the same. The water helped a bit. Got dressed for work. Actually had the door open. But something made me decide I wanted to be late. I convinced myself a cup of strong coffee and two cigarettes would clear my head and make me a safer driver than I usually am in the mornings.

So there I was standing in the kitchen about to pour out the coffee when I heard the key turning in the front door. I just froze still holding the container of hot coffee out of the coffee maker over my mug. I'd given the spare key to my friend who was staying with me a while back but I distinctly remembered her returning it. And the only other person who had a key was supposed to be in Sweden.

But he wasn't in Sweden. I stood there as the door opened and I heard him come in. I didn't move when I heard the door close behind him. It was so surreal. I remember wondering if I was really awake yet or if all of this was happening in a dream. God knows I'd had enough of those dreams.

Then he was standing infront of me, taking the coffee container out of my hand and setting it down. Then taking me in his arms and just holding me, squeezing so hard it hurt.

I guess he sensed the unnatural stillness because the hug ended abruptly. Instead I felt his hands in my hair, pushing it out of my face and tilting my face up to him, the way he always does when he isn't sure what I'm thinking or is about to ask me questions he thinks I might not want to answer.

He asked if I was ok. All I could do was ask him why he didn't tell me. My voice sounded funny. I sounded like I had something in stuck in my throat.

He said he wasn't sure until the last minute that he could make it, and didn't want to tell me and then have to cancel. I asked if he couldn't have called me before he got on the plane. He said I would have been asleep. I said no I wouldn't have. He said well I didn't want to wake you if you were.

And he started talking, telling me when the idea came up, how he made all the arrangements sounding really pleased with himself. And at some point, I tuned it all out. Was just watching. I was so starved for that, for just looking at him.

At some point he realized I wasn't listening. He went silent for a second then said let me take you inside. I nodded my head. He leaned down and picked me up off the floor. I had the stupid thought he must really be here because I'm being carried around. No one else has carried me around since I was about 7 or 8.

The funny thing is, once we were in bed, sleep - which had completely eluded me for days before - suddenly descended on me. I literally couldn't keep my eyes open. I started crying in his arms because I so desperately wanted to sleep but just as desperately wanted him. He was saying it was ok, that he will stay with me, that we had time. I wanted to ask how much time but I fell asleep before I could.

I slept for almost 5 hours and woke up still in his arms.

He left this afternoon. We didn't have nearly enough time for everything I wanted to do with him.

And after those first 5 hours, I didn't sleep at all. 4 days. Not even when he slept.

So right now I'm back on the couch - the bigger one this time. Not yet ready to face the bed now that he's gone. I have sand inside both lids. Here's hoping I crash for a long, long time.

Cheese

It was our fourth date I think. A long time ago. Not the 4th time I saw him.

We'd been seeing each other as friends for about 3 months. Once or twice a week. As friends because that's what I said I wanted. He'd made it clear from day one that he was hitting on me and would continue to do so.

Then 3 months later I gave in and had to admit that the relationship simply wasn't shaping up to be 'just friends'. And yes that we were falling in love. After that, we started to see each other everyday.

And so this was our 4th official date as an official couple.

I was hanging around the clinic waiting for him to finish work. He was really busy that day and didn't get off on time. Which was unusual for him. He's like clockwork. Doesn't tolerate people being late for appointments, shows up for work on time and leaves on time.

Very unlike me too. I am always late for work. And when I get into something I can't drop it and leave it just because it's the end of working hours. I work holidays too if I feel like it, which is sacrilege to him. I take on projects because I like them, not because they fit into my schedule and so my schedule, if you can call it that, is usually pretty haphazarded.

But that day he'd been delayed at the hospital in surgery. And because he'd kept some of his appointments waiting, he told them that if they were willing to wait he'd see everyone. And quite a few them agreed to wait.

I sat in the waiting room and listened to his patients talking about him and smiling because there was a lot of good stuff. I felt so proud, like it was me who was getting the good reviews. Only the 4th date and I was already feeling this weird sense of affinity.

But as the hours dragged on, I started to get restless and stressed that it might get so late the date would never actually happen. It had to be the quickest addiction in history. If after seeing him for 3 days in a row, I could get so upset at the idea of not seeing him on the 4th.

I told myself to calm down, that he'd obviously had a gruelling day at work and would probably be too tired to go out, that I should get up and leave so he wouldn't feel compelled to take me out etc.....

And I did. I sent him a text message to the effect that am going home and would see him tomorrow. I guess he didn't see it right away because I was already in the car park infront of my house when he called me.

Him: Inti filbait? (Are you home?)
Me : Just arrived. In the carpark.
Him : Law tili3ti mish hayinfa3 tinzili tani sa7?(If you go upstairs you won't be able to come out again right?)

I looked at my watch. It was a little before midnight. He was right. My family was strange like that. The house rule was that I could stay out as late as I wanted provided I leave home at a 'decent' time which they defined around 9:00pm. It was weird. If I go out at 8:00pm and come back at 2 in the morning, that was fine. But 10:00pm to 11:00pm was to them a sure-fire indication that I was running wild, too Westernized and a threat to the family honor and social prestige etc.....Suffice it to say, if I were to step in through the door at midnight then that was it for the night.

Me: No I can't.
Him: And what would you like to do?
Me: What would you like me to do?
Him: I asked you first.
Me: I don't know.
Him: Tayeb why don't you come pick me up and we'll figure it out together?
Me: Are you still at work?
Him: Yeah.
Me: Not too tired?
Him: Just hungry.

So I passed by one of his favorite restaurants to get some take-out. For him, I ordered his favorite sandwich. I thought we could eat in the car and then drive around a bit and go home. We were both too tired to do much that night.

But then I noticed he wasn't eating his sandwich. Just picking at the fries and side stuff. Totally unlike him not to eat, especially when he'd said he was hungry. I knew by then that his appetite is the one thing you can always count on.

I asked him. And he said well, you ordered this with cheese, I don't eat cheese.

Cheese is practically the only foodstuff my husband simply will not touch. I think pizza is the only exception to that. I mean, he won't even touch a salad if you've sprinkled parmesan on it which I will never understand.

And I love cheese. All kinds. Cheesecake is like my favorite desert. And you should see the look on his face when I am eating it infront of him.

We ended up going back to the restaurant and eating there. And the take-out was thrown away.

After that, I became meticulous about keeping cheese out of his food whenever I ordered or cooked for us even as I made sure everything I ate had cheese in it.

It was the first time we reccognized and acknowledged the fact that our relationship was definitely an 'opposites attract' kind of situation. Cheese was our first hint.

So why is this on my mind today? I had a few friends over tonight and we ordered take-out. Without thinking as I gave my friend the order, I said 'a club sandwich no cheese'. And she gave me this 'You?No cheese?' look.

It's not that I forgot and thought he was there and was ordering for him. No. When I saw the look on her face I suddenly realized that ever since he left I've been eating everything without cheese. My favorite food in the world and I haven't had any in almost 10 months. Not only that, I haven't even missed it.

I don't like cheese anymore. What do you know? We finally have something in common!

When I told him, he said something to the effect that he hoped that wasn't my way of springing a 6-month pregnancy on him. I think for a minute in there, he was really worried he might have gotten me pregnant last time we were together and I decided to keep it from him! Couldn't resist torturing him a little with that but eventually took pity on him.

Really strange though. I read somewhere about how married people grow to be like each other, that in some cases they even grow to look like each other in their old age. But I thought that comes from living in proximity and not living long distance.

Staying In

So this is my first weekend at home. The evenings anyway. I got some housework and some packing done. And I had time to blog and watch TV - two things I haven't done in a long time.

There is still some dread about what I'm going to do late in the evening today. I start to get restless around 11:00pm everyday so we'll have to see how that goes.

It is hard to explain my mood. Am feeling a bit restricted. But also satisfied. There was this distance between me and K that seems to have disappeared now. I was starting to feel that he was so preoccupied with what he is going through that he had no attention whatsoever for me. I felt on the sidelines of his life.

But I wasn't. He HAS been paying attention. There is a sense of gratification when I hear him repeating things I told him, that he has been listening, that he remembers, that he's been thinking about what I say.

We talk a lot more easily now. It's like that last clash broke some accumulation of ice. And we're as close as we've ever been. And we can't stop talking. We hang up and then half an hour later one of us calls again. We're running up phone bills again and for the time being, we don't care.

From time to time, we do have peace that way. Things are back on track like none of the bad stuff ever happened, like when we first met and fell in love.

Speaking for myself, I don't know how long I can go on before I break down and have hysterics from the withdrawal symptoms. I wish I was strong enough not to keep doing this. I wish I was strong enough to keep my need for him from manifesting itself as burden on him. But how can I when it is such a burden on me? Too much of a burden for me to carry alone.

And knowing him, he has backed himself into a corner. He stepped up and said ok I'll handle this. And he pushed everyone else away. And he forced us all to live with his decision. And I know that despite some initial resistance, his family has accepted his decision. So now he can't complain. He has to be strong for all of them. His mother leans on him. His siblings lean on him. His father is mostly his responsibility in everyway. Basically he wanted to take over and he has.

But me, I'm his wife, I should have been the one person he always has to lean on. And I haven't been. I was so unsupportive of his decision that there was no way he was going to complain to me either. He was too busy listening to me complain and defending himself.

And he has reacted by distancing himself, disengaging, keeping me at arm's length. Which has only made me feel and act worse.

Slowly over the last few months I've had a change of heart. I've seen some things happen that have changed my mind.

So I tried to reach out to him. And got no positive response. Payback for not doing it as soon as he thought I should have? Lack of faith in my ability to keep it up, in that he can infact rely on me? Maybe a little of both. But now I finally seem to have made a breaktrhough.

So then what? Are we condemned to keep turning in this vicious circle with very brief and increasingly less frequent periods of calm like the one we're enjoying now?

I wish I can say I expect it to last. As much as it feels good when we are close, it's also painful because it just makes us want to be with each other more.

Speaking for me again, I think the answer is time. If it's going to be another one or 2 months then I think I can take it and behave myself and live up to all my present good intentions. But if it drags on and on, then I just don't know. Let's face it. I don't function well without him.

Would he bear with me when if and when I fail? He says yes. Would he not react by disengaging from the relationship? He responded to that by asking how I wanted him to react, what I expected from him.

What DO I expect from him? To stay with me, even if we're fighting. To give and take. To scream back if he needs to. To acknowledge my feelings. To reasssure me. To tell me why I'm wrong. To remind me of my good intentions. Anything other than to withdraw as if to say I'm not dealing with this, it's not a priority, if you're going to be that way then you're on your own.

I'm so tired of being on my own.

Controlling

It seems a long time since I posted this. Almost 3 years ago.

I did know it all along. But it didn't stop me falling in love with him. Should it have?